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THE  LIBRARY 

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THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


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FREE  TO  SERVE 


A  Tale  of 
COLONIAL    NEW   YORK 


By 

E.    RAYNER 


BOSTON 

COPELAND  AND  DAY 

M  DCCC  XCVII 


First    Edition    [2,500  copies]  October  1897 
Second  Edition  [2,500  copies]  December  1897 


COPYRIGHT    1897    BY    COPELAND    AND    DAY 


FREE   TO    SERVE 


CHAPTER   I  /i^^y 


ANY  one  chancing  to  watch,  on  a  certain  night 
of  the  year  1701,  the  movements  of  a  girl  who 
threaded  her  way  through  a  succession  of  narrow 
London  alleys,  would  have  said  that  she  was  bent  on  mis- 
chief There  was  no  doubt  that  she  was  shunning  no- 
tice. Her  footfall,  as  she  emerged  into  a  more  open 
neighbourhood,  suggested  the  stealthy  tread  of  a  prowl- 
ing animal,  and  the  eyes  that  peered  into  the  darkness 
were  keenly  on  the  alert.  The  moon,  as  if  with  a  view 
to  gratifying  the  girl's  evident  desire  for  concealment, 
had  sailed  behind  a  roughly  piled  mountain  of  cloud, 
thick  enough  and  extensive  enough  to  intercept  her 
rays  for  many  minutes  to  come.  And  if  that  were  not 
enough,  a  tall  warehouse  cast  its  shadow  fairly  across 
the  street,  and  an  archway  held  a  denser  darkness  in  its 
narrow  entrance. 

Here  the  girl  stopped  and  listened,  then  drew  into  the 
friendly  depths  and  waited.  From  the  broader  thor- 
oughfare just  beyond  could  be  plainly  heard  the  slow 
tread  of  the  watchman  as  he  shuffled  nearer,  with  lantern 
and  staff  in  hand.  The  ordinary  sounds  of  the  city 
were  stilled.  Even  the  shoeblack's  shrill  cry  of  "  Clean 
your  shoes  !  "  had  ceased.  The  night  was  too  far  ad- 
vanced for  the  most  carefully  habited  beau  to  trouble 
himself  overmuch  about  the  appearance  of  his  high- 
heeled  shoes,  though  they  might  be  brought  into  sudden 


2137837 


2  FREE   TO    SERVE 

contact  with  ankle-deep  mud  during  their  owner's  uncer- 
tain progress  homeward  from  some  exhilarating  form  of 
evening  entertainment. 

The  girl  bent  her  head  and  listened  —  not  to  the 
oncoming  step,  but  to  other  sounds  in  the  distance  of 
the  city.  Now  and  again  they  were  borne  upon  the 
night  air  —  far-away  murmurs  of  loudly  shouted  scraps 
of  songs,  mingled  with  noisy  bursts  of  laughter. 

The  footsteps  of  the  watchman  came  nearer.  The 
girl  glided  from  her  shelter,  and  reached  the  open  thor- 
oughfare as  the  light  of  his  lantern  fell  across  the  side 
street. 

"  Father !  " 

The  old  man  —  for  he  was  very  old  for  the  task  he 
essayed  —  stopped  suddenly. 

"  Is  that  you,  Mary?  "  he  said.  "  You'd  be  better  in 
your  bed." 

"  Nay,  but  I  couldn't  sleep.  There  are  some  of  them 
about  again." 

"  Aye,  I  know  it.  Young  bloods  like  them  have  got 
nothing  better  to  do.  Pity  'tis  they  hadn't  to  earn  their 
victuals  by  the  sweat  of  their  brows.  Not  a  few  of  'em 
would  know  a  taste  of  hunger  then." 

"  Come  in  here." 

She  drew  him  into  the  shelter  she  had  lately  left,  and 
carefully  screened  the  light  of  the  lantern  with  her  skirts. 

"They're  coming  this  way,"  she  said.  "They're 
nearer  by  a  mile  than  when  I   listened  first." 

"  Maybe  they  are." 

He  spoke  wearily. 

"  You'll  not  try  to  stop  'em  in  their  mischief  ?  " 

She  peered  into  his  face  as  she  spoke,  bringing  her 
own  so  near  that  she  almost  touched  him. 

"  Nay,  girl.  No  fear !  They're  too  plaguy  strong 
and  young  for  me  to  deal  with.  I'll  away  a  bit  further  up 
the  street,  and  turn  me  down  into  a  spot  I  know  well,  as 


FREE   TO    SERVE  3 

good  for  hiding  in  as  any  other.     And  you,  my  girl,  keep 
well  out  of  sight.     If  they  should  lay  hands  on  you  — " 

He  grasped  more  tightly  the  long  staff  he  carried,  and 
for  the  moment  the  shuffling  foot  was  set  firmly  down,  and 
the  wandering  eye  looked  straight  out  across  the  circle 
of  light  flung  by  the  lantern  that  by  the  last  movement 
had  been  lett  unshaded. 

"  Hark  !     Yonder's  the  constable." 

The  girl's  quick  ear  had  caught  a  sound  that  brought 
no  message  to  the  duller  senses  of  the  old  man.  He 
stood  a  moment  staring  at  her  as  if  bewildered,  then 
snatched  the  lantern  from  her  hand,  and  moved  out  into 
the  roadway  with  a  tremendous  show  of  zeal,  swinging 
his  lantern  manfully. 

He  felt  himself  between  two  fires.  Behind  him  came 
the  constable,  with  valiant  tread,  and  tongue  eloquently 
free  in  bringing  home  their  deserts  to  such  recreant 
guardians  of  the  slumbers  of  peaceful  citizens  as  were 
found  neglecting  their  duties.  Ahead  of  him  — but  still 
in  the  distance  —  he  could  hear  the  shouts  of  a  band  of 
young  roisterers  fresh  from  an  evening's  carousal.  The 
old  man  had  not  dodged  such  companies  every  night 
for  nothing.  He  could  have  told,  and  did  tell,  when  he 
was  sure  of  his  listener,  what  kind  of  sport  these  young 
rakes  loved  best.  He  had  no  mind  to  protect  the  prop- 
erty of  citizens  at  the  expense  of  a  broken  head,  to  say 
nothing  of  bruises  and  sword-cuts  by  way  of  variety. 
He  knew  his  beat  well,  very  well  for  his  purpose,  and 
there  were  only  two  or  three  stretches  in  its  whole  length 
in  which  a  man  could  not  find  a  conveniently  dark  hid- 
ing-place to  creep  into  until  the  hilarious  young  towns- 
men were  safely  past.  But  the  temper  of  the  constable 
was  an  unknown  quantity.  He  could  be  jovially  lenient 
to  the  eccentricities  of  a  homeward-bound  pedestrian 
whose  sense  of  direction  was  for  the  time  in  abeyance, 
always  provided  the  traveller  had  not  lost  the  power  of 


4  FREE   TO   SERVE 

finding  his  way  to  the  particular  pocket  in  which  his 
money  reposed.  And  he  had  been  known  to  be  con- 
veniently blind  to  defection  on  the  part  of  the  watchmen 
under  his  charge,  though  there  were  some  who  averred 
that  such  absence  of  astuteness  could  only  be  reckoned 
upon  on  occasions  when  the  worthy  constable  scented 
danger  to  his  own  person.  That  his  tongue  could  wag 
to  some  purpose  under  ordinary  provocation  every  sub- 
ordinate knew  to  his  cost. 

The  sounds  in  the  distance  had  become  gradually 
clearer.  The  old  man  threw  a  nervous  glance  over  his 
shoulder.  His  superior  was  still  on  the  scene,  though  the 
stretch  of  roadway  between  the  two  had  not  materially 
diminished. 

The  watchman  moved  sullenly  forward.  He  was  un- 
comfortably aware  that  he  had  entered  upon  one  of 
the  sections  of  his  beat  along  which  convenient  shelter 
was  hard  to  find.  Suddenly  he  stopped,  hesitated  for  a 
single  moment,  and  turned  and  ran  at  a  pace  which  suited 
ill  the  legs  that,  between  stiffness  and  fear,  tottered  pain- 
fully. The  fact  that  the  constable  had  disappeared  made 
no  very  clear  impression  upon  the  old  man's  mind,  though 
he  observed  the  empty  stretch  of  road,  and  the  loneli- 
ness of  the  path  within  the  posts,  those  barriers  that  held 
back  the  road-traffic  lest  it  should  infringe  upon  the  path- 
way set  aside  for  pedestrians. 

For  some  minutes  the  shouts  and  songs  had  ceased, 
and  there  had  been  nothing  to  indicate  the  whereabouts 
of  the  revellers.  Now,  close  at  hand,  scarcely  beyond 
the  point  where  the  street  turned,  there  arose  a  babel  of 
sound.  The  rattle  of  a  dozen  canes,  lead-tipped,  upon 
a  good  oaken  door,  disturbed  the  slumbers  of  a  house- 
holder, and  before  he  could  put  forth  his  head  from  his 
window,  if,  indeed,  he  contemplated  any  such  impru- 
dence, his  door-knocker  was  wrenched  from  its  hold,  and 
carried  off  as  a  trophy. 


FREE   TO   SERVE  5 

There  came  a  momentary  lull  while  one  of  the  group 
took  aim  and  sent  a  half-penny  flying  through  a  partially 
unprotected  window.  Instantly  a  clamour  ensued,  as  a 
shower  of  half-pence  came  rattling  upon  the  panes,  and 
the  fun  waxed  furious,  till,  between  the  falling  of  broken 
glass  and  the  shouts  of  the  company,  there  was  clatter 
enough  to  render  the  night  hideous. 

Their  work  done,  the  roisterers  passed  on.  The  street 
was  dark,  for  the  moon  had  not  yet  cleared  the  cloud- 
bank.  Since  Michaelmas  Day  was  past,  and  moreover 
the  moon  was  near  the  full,  there  were  two  good  reasons 
for  leaving  the  lamps  unlighted.  The  darkness  of  the 
roadway  suited  well  the  mood  of  the  revellers,  whose 
loud  laughter  at  the  helplessness  of  the  populace,  and 
congratulations  upon  their  own  prowess,  filled  up  the 
interval  between  each  mad  sally. 

"  Ha  !  Who  goes  yonder  ?  Here's  ruin  to  the  sneak- 
ing watchman !  " 

The  cry  reached  the  old  man  in  his  hastily  chosen 
retreat.  He  tried  to  draw  further  back,  squeezing  him- 
self flat  against  a  wall. 

"  Where  is  he?  "  came  from  half  a  dozen  throats. 

"  Crouching  in  yonder  doorway.  We'll  root  him 
out,  and  roast  him  after.  Hi,  watchman  !  What  of  the 
night?  " 

The  derisive  accents  filled  the  old  man  with  fear,  and 
gave  him  a  sickening  realization  of  what  he  might  expect 
at  the  hands  of  these  young  fashionables. 

"  Come  out  and  face  the  music,  coward  !  Sneaking 
won't  avail  you  much." 

The  words  were  emphasized  by  the  thrusting  into  the 
darkness  of  a  naked  sword,  drawn  from  the  cane  of 
the  speaker.  The  watchman  deemed  it  wisest  to  come 
forth. 

"  What  want  you,  young  sirs?  "  he  asked  tremulously. 
"  Go  on  your  ways,  and  leave  me  in  the  discharge  of  my 


6  FREE   TO    SERVE 

duty,  for  full  well  you  know  I'm  but  an  old  man  set  to 
guard  the  slumbers  of  law-abiding  citizens." 

"  And  right  well  you  guard  'em,  on  my  faith  !  " 

"  That's  to  help  remind  you  to  stick  to  your  post  like 
a  man." 

The  second  speaker  dealt  the  old  watchman  a  ringing 
blow  on  the  cheek  with  his  open  palm,  and  as  he  tried 
to  escape,  the  rest  closed  round  him  and  began  in  turn 
to  buffet  him. 

The  fun  was  going  on  apace,  and  no  thought  of  inter- 
ruption in  this  their  most  cherished  form  of  amusement 
disturbed  the  minds  of  the  youths,  when  there  burst  in 
upon  them  a  lithe  figure,  that  came  out  of  the  darkness 
with  an  impetus  which  brought  it  into  their  very  midst 
before  they  suspected  danger. 

"What  are  ye  after,  ye  cowards?  " 

A  girl's  ringing  voice  rose  above  the  tumult.  She 
stood  in  their  midst,  her  eyes  ablaze  with  anger  and  scorn. 

"  I  give  you  joy,  gentlemen,  on  your  courage,"  she 
said,  drawing  herself  up  to  her  full  height.  "  Right  well 
you  value  a  whole  skin,  that  you  pick  out  the  oldest 
watchman  of  them  all  to  test  your  valour  on." 

She  stretched  out  her  arm  and  pointed  a  finger  at  the 
old  man,  trembling  and  helpless,  then  turned  it  towards 
the  youth  whose  hand  was  still  uplifted  to  strike. 

"He'd  be  a  gallant  worthy  to  fight  with  a  cat,  or,  may- 
hap, better  yet,  a  kitten,"  she  said  derisively.  "  I  dare 
wager  he'd  run  fast  enough  at  the  first  touch  of  her 
claws." 

For  a  moment  the  men  were  speechless,  bewildered 
by  the  sudden  onslaught.  That  the  taunt  was  not 
wasted  on  him  who  held  the  watchman's  arm  was  shown 
by  the  heightened  flush  on  his  cheek.  He  recovered 
quickly  from  his  embarrassment. 

"Ho,  ho!  What  have  we  here?"  he  cried,  as  he 
snatched  the  lantern  from  the  old  man's  nerveless  fin- 


FREE   TO    SERVE  7 

gers,  and  held  it  close  to  the  girl's  face.     "  A  beauty,  by 
Jupiter !  " 

She  stood  the  bold  gaze  unflinchingly,  only  her  eyes 
sought  those  of  the  watchman,  and  her  hand  moved  ever 
so  slightly  in  the  direction  of  the  road.  He  understood 
the  movement  as  a  sign  to  him  to  flee,  and  with  the 
instinct  of  self-preservation  almost  acted  upon  the  sug- 
gestion. Then  he  shook  his  head  decidedly,  drew  him- 
self together,  and  advanced  until  his  hand  rested  upon 
the  girl's  shoulder. 

"  Look  you  here,  young  sirs,"  he  said.  "  You've 
naught  to  say  to  her.  Let  her  go  about  her  business, 
and  settle  the  rest  with  me." 

"  Oh,  we'll  settle  with  you  fast  enough  !  No  fear  of 
that,"  laughed  the  man  who  held  the  lantern,  and  by  way 
of  illustrating  his  words  he  struck  the  old  man  a  heavy 
blow  with  his  clenched  fist. 

"  Stop  that,  drunken  brute  that  you  are,  or  it'll  be 
the  worse  for  you  !  " 

The  girl's  hand  was  raised  as  she  spoke,  and  as  it 
descended,  five  red  streaks  upon  the  face  of  the  gallant 
bore  witness  to  the  sharpness  of  her  finger-nails. 

"  Vixen  !     Tigress  !     You  shall  pay  for  this." 

They  closed  about  the  two  —  the  old  man  and  the  girl. 
The  watchman  forgot  his  fear  and  fought  desperrtely, 
but  as  the  company  surged  and  swayed  and  pressed  for- 
ward he  was  thrown  to  the  ground,  and,  in  the  greater 
interest  of  wreaking  their  vengeance  on  the  girl,  the 
youths  trampled  him  under  foot,  and  left  him  bleeding 
and  senseless  where  he  had  fallen,  being  intent  only  on 
tormenting  their  new  victim.  Right  boldly  she  met  their 
onslaught,  but  they  were  too  many  for  her.  She  did  not 
flinch  at  the  thrusts  of  their  sword- points,  and  it  is  pos- 
sible it  was  her  savage  daring  that  won  for  her  better 
treatment  than  others  of  her  sex  had  received  at  their 
hands. 


8  FREE   TO    SERVE 

"  Give  the  hussy  a  ride  downhill.  That's  the  kind  of 
carriage  for  beauties  of  her  stamp,"  suggested  one  of  her 
tormentors. 

"  A  hugely  good  suggestion,  and  one  worth  carry- 
ing out.  She  can  scratch  and  claw  as  she's  a  mind  to 
then." 

"And  here's  the  wherewithal  to  accomplish  the  busi- 
ness," announced  another. 

The  speaker  dashed  across  the  road  to  where  an  empty 
barrel  stood  beneath  the  eaves  of  a  house.  Just  below 
where  they  were  the  street  dipped  sharply  down.  It  was 
a  long,  steep  slope,  well  calculated  to  afford  facilities  for 
the  carrying-out  of  their  design.  This  would  not  be  the 
first  time  that  a  woman  had  been  inclosed  in  a  barrel  and 
rolled  down  the  hill  by  such  young  miscreants  as  these. 
The  girl  stood,  with  gleaming  eyes  and  baffled  hatred, 
glaring  at  her  captors,  who  had  dragged  her  arms  behind 
her,  and  were  holding  them  with  no  merciful  grip. 

"  The  very  thing,  and  in  the  nick  of  time.  A  bless- 
ing on  your  eyes  for  their  sharpness !  "  cried  he  whom 
the  girl  had  singled  out  for  attack,  and  who  was  man- 
ifestly the  leader  of  the  party.  "  In  with  the  wench. 
We'll  give  her  a  taste  of  a  new  pleasure." 

"  By  the  Lord  Harry,  that  you  shall  not !  " 

The  speaker,  a  young  man  a  trifle  more  sober  than  his 
companions,  drew  his  sword  as  he  spoke. 

"What  words  are  these?  Who  says  'shall  not'  to 
me?"  hotly  demanded  the  knight  of  the  five  wounds. 

"  I  do  !  "  replied  the  other  emphatically. 

"  And  what  have  you  to  say  to  it?  " 

"  This  !  "  and  his  sword  was  thrust  beneath  the  nose 
of  the  other. 

"  What  mean  you  by  that,  a  hanger-on  like  you  ? 
Better  pay  your  debts,  and  leave  my  affairs  alone." 

"  What  is  that  you  say?  " 

"  '  Pay  your  debts,'  that's  what  I  say  ;  and,  by  all  that's 


FREE   TO    SERVE  9 

holy,  they  sJiall  be  paid  before  yonder  moon  climbs  high 
again,  or  you  take  the  consequences !  " 

At  that  moment  the  moon  outrode  the  clouds,  and 
flooded  the  thoroughfare  with  light.  It  showed  the 
blank  dismay,  the  angry  consternation,  of  the  youth 
who  still  held  his  sword  menacingly. 

"  You  taunt  me  with  what  I  owe  you  ?  "  he  questioned. 

"  I'll  do  more  than  that.  I'll  teach  a  beggar  like  you 
to  beware  how  he  interferes  with  a  gentleman." 

«  You  will?     Take  that!" 

He  dealt  the  other  a  blow  in  the  face. 

For  the  next  few  minutes  there  was  a  bewildering, 
mixed  scuffle,  in  which  swords  and  fists  and  sticks  played 
about  an  equal  part.  Before  it  was  ended  the  girl  had 
disappeared,  and  the  old  watchman  had  been  completely 
forgotten.  Not  one  of  the  party  saw  the  young  fury 
bend  over  the  blood-bedabbled  face,  and  peer  into  it  for 
signs  of  life.  And  nobody  knew  that  she  stooped  and 
lifted  the  old  man  in  her  arms,  half  carrying,  half  drag- 
ging him  into  the  shelter  of  a  side  alley.  They  were  all 
too  busy  fighting  and  cursing  one  another.  It  is  to  be 
supposed  that  they  came  out  of  the  fray  equally  well,  — 
or  ill,  —  for  presently  the  group  opened,  and  two  of  the 
combatants  were  led  off  by  their  friends,  bleeding  pro- 
fusely. As  for  the  watchman,  whether  he  was  dead  or 
alive  was  a  matter  of  small  moment.  Watchmen  in  that 
day  were  plentiful,  and  the  flickering-out  of  one  such 
life  was  of  no  moment  to  any  except  the  girl  who  had 
thought  the  life  worth  fighting  for. 


10  FREE   TO   SERVE 


CHAPTER   II 

"T     ^  OR  goodness'  sak-e,  sir,  wake  up  !    They're  like  as 

r^     not  comin'  upstairs  this  blessed  minute." 
A  The  speaker,  a  red-headed,  thick-limbed  girl, — 

or  child,  for  she  looked  little  more,  —  spoke  in  a  loud, 
excited  whisper,  putting  her  mouth  almost  to  the  ear  of 
the  sleeper. 

"  Wake  up,  I  say  !  You  ain't  got  a  mite  o'  time  to  lose. 
The  bailiff  do  be  here." 

As  if  there  were  some  potency  in  the  last  words,  the 
young  man  stirred  uneasily,  the  movement  disclosing  a 
bandaged  arm,  and  blood-stains  on  the  rumpled  linen. 

"  Mercy  on  us,  ye  do  sleep  dreadful  heavy  !  Rouse 
up,  can't  ye?     The  bailiff's  after  ye,  for  sure." 

In  her  eagerness  she  laid  her  hand  on  his  shoulder. 
The  sleeper  opened  his  eyes  for  a  moment,  groaned,  and 
became  conscious  that  there  was  another  world  than  that 
of  dreams.  He  fixed  his  bewildered  gaze  on  the  squat 
figure  of  the  girl.     Then  his  senses  slowly  returned. 

"What  is  it,  Molly?     Time  to  get  up?  " 

"  Mercy  on  us,  sir,  I  wish  it  warn't  no  more'n  that ! 
You  ain't  heard  a  blessed  word.  There's  the  bailiff 
a-wantin'  ye,  and  you  sleepin'  as  innocent  as  a  babe." 

"The  bailiff!  " 

"  Aye,  sir,  the  bailiff.  And  if  ye  don't  want  to  go 
with  him,  ye've  got  to  look  sharp." 

"  Are  you  sure  he  wants  me?  Perchance  some  of  the 
other  lodgers  —  " 

"  He's  after  you,  as  sure  as  death,  sir.  He  was  tellin' 
it  all  to  missis  when  I  come  upstairs.  They  didn't  know 
I  listened,  nor  yet  that  I'd  run  up  to  warn  ye." 

The  young  man  stared  at  her  blankly.     His  mind  was 


FREE   TO   SERVE  ii 

occupied   with  putting  together  certain   circumstances 
that  bore  to  one  another  the  relation  of  cause  and  efifect. 

"  Then  he's  been  as  good  as  his  word,  and  it's  all  up 
with  me,"  he  said. 

"  No,  it  ain't.  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  responded  Molly. 
"  Why,  there's  them  that  has  dodged  the  bailiff  for 
months,  and  never  got  took.  You've  got  to  dodge  him, 
that's  all." 

"  You  don't  understand,  girl.  It's  not  this  one  debt, 
it's  what's  behind.  I'm  in  the  clutches  of  a  serpent  that 
will  squeeze  the  life-blood  out  of  me." 

He  spoke  tragically.  In  truth,  he  felt  tragical.  But 
tragedy  was  wasted  on  Molly. 

"  Hoot,  sir  !  I  think  ye  should  know  more  than  to  give 
in  like  a  baby,"  she  said.  "  I'd  never  have  thought  ye'd 
take  it  this  way.  A  young  gentleman  like  you  should 
have  wit  enough  to  get  out  of  a  scrape,  as  well  as  get 
in  one.  He  ain't  got  ye  yet.  Time  enough  to  say 
it's  all  up  with  ye  when  he's  got  his  long,  hungry  fingers 
on  ye." 

Molly's  face  showed  a  mixture  of  indignation,  anxiety, 
and  kindly  disapprobation,  that,  with  the  background 
of  dirt  that  was  never  lacking,  gave  to  the  small  maid  a 
particularly  ludicrous  appearance.  The  comicalness  of 
the  situation  was,  however,  entirely  wasted  upon  the 
young  man,  who  was  too  anxious  about  his  own  safety 
to  give  a  thought  to  this  servant  lass  who  was  putting 
herself  to  no  small  risk  in  his  behalf 

"  And  how  long  will  it  be  before  his  clutch  is  on  me, 
girl?"  he  asked.  "Such  knaves  know  better  than  to 
let  their  prey  escape.  I  shall  feel  the  strength  of  his 
grip  before  I  am  well  down  the  stairs." 

"To  be  sure,  sir,"  said  Molly.  "  But  you  ain't  goin' 
down  the  stairs,  not  till  he's  clear  o'  the  place.  You  do 
jest  as  I  tell  ye,  and  that  there  bailiff  may  whistle  for 
ye  till  he's  tired.     But  you'd  better  hurry,  sir,  for  if  he 


12  FREE   TO   SERVE 

should  come  up  here  now,  you'd  be  in  a  sad  takin',  and 
me  too." 

"  Small  chance  of  being  in  anything  else,  now  he's  after 
me.  In  all  probability  he's  even  now  half-way  up  the 
stair,"  said  the  young  man. 

"  Maybe,  sir,  and  maybe  not.  Anyhow,  there's  a  good 
strong  door  betwixt  him  and  you,  and  the  bolt's  well 
drawn.     For  the  rest,  I'll  listen." 

Molly  tiptoed  to  the  end  of  the  passage,  and  applied 
her  ear  to  the  crack  of  the  door  she  had  been  discreet 
enough  to  bolt  upon  coming  upstairs.  She  had  suc- 
ceeded in  transferring  a  fair  share  of  her  anxiety  to  the 
young  man,  who  was  at  that  moment  precipitately  array- 
ing himself  in  garments  that  would  have  been  donned 
more  quickly  had  it  not  been  for  the  stiffness  of  his 
bandaged  arm.  The  bewilderment  of  his  sudden  awak- 
ening had  hardly  yet  worn  off.  Possibly  the  effect  of  a 
night's  festivity  had  something  to  do  with  the  throbbing 
head  which  refused  to  weigh  calmly  this  unpleasantly 
critical  situation.  The  only  thing  the  youth  fairly  real- 
ized was  that  a  debtor's  prison  stared  him  in  the  face, 
and  that,  once  inside  its  walls,  his  residence  there  would 
not  be  of  short  duration.  Through  his  bewildered  brain 
darted  words  heard  in  the  heat  of  conflict,  sometime 
in  the  small  hours  of  the  night  that  was  past : 

"  '  Pay  your  debts,'  that's  what  I  say  ;  and,  by  all  that's 
holy,  Xkity  shall  be  paid,  or  you  take  the  consequences  !  " 

These  were  the  consequences 

His  hands  shook  as  he  stooped  to  fasten  on  the  high- 
heeled,  buckled  shoes.  He  had  grown  as  nervously 
eager  as  was  Molly  herself.  When  that  maiden  returned 
she  found  him  struggling  to  introduce  his  injured  arm 
into  the  armhole  of  his  long  waistcoat. 

"  Here,  you  let  me  help  ye  with  that,  sir,"  she  said. 
"  They're  talkin'  downstairs  as  easy  as  can  be.  He's 
went  out  and  got  some  beer,  and  they're  drinkin'  of  it 


FREE   TO    SERVE  13 

comfortable.  I  heard  missis  tellin'  of  him  you  was  sure 
to  be  dead  asleep,  'cause  you  come  in  late,  and  had  been 
spreein'." 

"  How  do  you  propose  to  keep  me  out  of  that  fel- 
low's way?  "  asked  the  young  man,  when  his  toilet  neared 
completion. 

"  Well,  sir,  'tain't  much  of  a  place,  to  be  sure,  but  it's 
mighty  safe.  There's  a  bit  of  a  closet  a-top  o'  the  garret 
stairs.  I  sleep  there,  what  time  I  get  to  sleep,  which 
ain't  much.  It's  three  parts  full  o'  rubbish.  You  could 
crawl  in  among  that,  and  lay  close,  and  he'd  never  find 
ye  as  long  as  he  lived.     I'll  let  ye  know  when  he's  gone." 

"All  right;   go  ahead.     I'm  ready,"  was  the  answer. 

"  This  way,  sir.  My  gracious  !  They're  comin',  sure 
enough  !  " 

The  girl  darted  out  of  the  door,  turned  up  a  narrow 
passage,  and  stopped  at  the  foot  of  a  boxed-in  stair- 
case. 

"  This  way,  sir.     Quick  !  " 

The  young  man  followed  headlong.  At  the  top  of 
the  stairs  the  girl  stopped,  pushed  open  a  door,  and 
further,  pushed  her  charge  inside,  shutting  him  in  before 
he  could  see  where  he  was,  and  rushing  down  again. 
She  was  not  a  moment  too  soon.  The  bolt  she  had 
drawn  was  hardly  pushed  back  before  the  door  flew 
open,  and  she  was  confronted  by  her  mistress.  She  had 
not  to  wait  long  for  a  greeting. 

"  What  are  you  doin'  here,  you  lazy  young  slut?  Get 
about  yer  work,  or  I'll  take  some  of  the  laziness  out  of 
ye  in  a  way  that  I'll  wager'll  not  be  to  yer  taste." 

"  I  am  a-workin'.  I  don't  never  do  nothin'  else  but 
work,"  retorted  Molly  sullenly,  taking  the  precaution 
to  move  quickly  out  of  reach  of  the  woman's  arm. 

"  You're  an  idle  good-for-nothing,  not  worth  the  food 
you  eat." 

But  Molly  was  already  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  down 


14  FREE   TO   SERVE 

which  her  footsteps  were  heard  retreating.  Any  one 
who  had  hstened  might  have  counted  just  as  many  dull 
thuds  as  there  were  steps  to  descend,  but  any  one  who 
had  watched  would  have  seen  that  for  every  thud  there 
was  not  a  corresponding  descent.  When  fairly  out  of 
sight  in  the  curve  of  the  staircase,  the  girl  stopped,  and 
while  her  feet  rose  and  fell,  her  sharp  ears  were  busy 
noting  the  movements  of  the  bailiff  and  his  escort.  She 
heard  her  mistress  expatiating  loudly  on  the  trials  of  a 
landlady's  lot. 

"  It's  the  life  of  a  galley  slave,  and  nothin'  to  show  for 
it,"  said  that  lady.     "  Now  there's  this  young —  " 

"  By  all  that's  holy,  the  bird's  flown !  " 

The  bailiff  had  entered  the  room  while  the  good 
woman  was  yet  engrossed  by  her  own  eloquence. 

"Gone?  Not  he  !  You  must  be  pretty  well  foxed 
if  you  can't  see  him  a-layin'  in  his  bed.  He  come  in 
that  late  it  was  near  mornin',  and  he  never  —  Mercy  on 
us  !     He  ain't  there  !  " 

She  had  pushed  past  the  bailiff,  and  stood  looking  at 
the  empty  bed.  The  bailiff  stared  at  the  landlady,  and 
the  landlady  stared  at  the  bailiff. 

"  That's  a  pretty  go  !  " 

"When  did  he  get  out?  That's  what  I  want  to 
know,"  said  the  landlady. 

The  bailiff  went  slowly  round  the  room,  and  exam- 
ined all  possible  hiding-places. 

"  Wherever  he  is  now,  this  don't  happen  to  be  the 
place,"  he  remarked  oracularly. 

Suddenly  the  landlady  strode  through  the  door. 

"Mol-ly!" 

That  damsel  began  to  beat  a  noiseless  retreat  kitch- 
enward. 

"  Moll !  " 

Still  Molly  was  discreetly  silent. 

"  Drat  the  girl !      Mo-ol-ly  !  " 


FREE   TO    SERVE  15 

From  the  depths  of  the  kitchen  proceeded  a  muffled 
"  Yes,  mum." 

"Are  you  deaf,  I  should  like  to  know?  Come  up 
here." 

Molly  slowly  tramped  up  the  stairs. 

"  Where's  Mr.  Nevard?     He  ain't  in  his  bed." 

"  No,  mum,  an'  he  ain't  been  there  these  hours.  He 
was  up  afore  six  this  mornin',  lookin'  more  like  a  spook 
than  the  young  gentleman  he  is." 

"Young  gentleman,  forsooth  !  Young  beggar,  more 
like.  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  he  was  gone?  Where's 
my  money  comin'  from,  I  should  like  to  know,  and  him 
owin'  me  six  weeks  if  he  owes  a  day?  " 

Having  no  information  to  impart  on  this  score,  Molly 
was  silent. 

"  Why  didn't  you  tell  me?     Answer  me  that." 

The  woman  clutched  the  girl  by  the  shoulder  as  she 
spoke. 

"  'Cause  I  didn't  know  as  ye  wanted  to  be  told.  They 
all  comes  and  goes  as  they  likes.  'Tain't  my  place  to 
stop  'em." 

"When  did  you  say  this  young  spark  went?"  asked 
the  bailiff. 

"  Six  o'clock  this  mornin'.  Td  jest  undone  the  door 
to  clean  the  steps.  There  was  a  gentleman  come  for 
him  in  a  hackney  coach,  and  he  run  upstairs  and  woke 
him  up,  and  they  went  off  together." 

"  And  you  hadn't  no  more  sense  than  to  let  him  go 
that  way?"  said  the  landlady.  "Just  like  a  good-for- 
nothing  piece  like  you." 

Molly  stolidly  surveyed  her  grimy  red  fingers. 

The  landlady  and  the  bailiff  made  a  second  inspection 
of  the  lodger's  room,  and  having  satisfied  themselves  that 
he  was  not  hidden  in  any  crevice  or  corner  of  the  same, 
proceeded  to  retrace  their  steps,  the  emissary  of  the  law 
suggesting  that  another  pot  of  beer  might  do  something 


i6  FREE    TO    SERVE 

towards  rendering  the  situation  less  irksome  during  the 
hours  of  waiting. 

Meanwhile,  in  the  depths  of  Molly's  closet,  the  object 
of  their  solicitude  crouched  among  the  rubbish,  to  the 
serious  damage  of  his  light  silk  stockings.  He  had  time 
now  to  collect  his  scattered  senses,  and  look  the  situation 
in  the  face.  He  was  well  aware  that  the  sum  the  bailiff 
had  come  to  collect  was  not  in  itself  particularly  large, 
but  if  what  he  suspected  was  true,  the  hand  that  had 
closed  about  him  in  this  case  was  only  holding  him  for 
a  season,  to  gain  time  for  a  tighter  grip.  The  pursuit 
of  revenge,  once  begun,  is  apt  to  prove  an  engrossing 
pastime,  and  the  young  debtor  was  uncomfortably  cer- 
tain that  he  knew  his  man,  and  had  little  mercy  to  expect 
from  him. 

"  I  was  a  fool,  a  stupid  fool,  to  meddle  with  his 
pleasures,"  he  muttered.  "  The  girl  was  nothing  to 
me,  yet  it  was  a  crying  shame  to  treat  so  scurvily  as 
handsome  a  wench  as  yon." 

Then  he  fell  to  musing  over  his  probable  fate,  and 
between  present  discomfort  and  visions  of  prospective 
incarceration,  the  time  passed  but  slowly.  Fears  of 
being  discovered  in  his  undignified  position,  and  igno- 
miniously  exposed,  added  to  his  impatience,  and  he  had 
almost  made  up  his  mind  to  tempt  fate  by  endeavouring 
to  escape,  when  he  heard  a  stealthy  step  upon  the  stair. 

"Are  you  all  right,  sir?"  asked  Molly,  opening  the 
door  far  enough  to  insert  her  head. 

"Right?"  retorted  the  young  man,  "There's  pre- 
cious little  chance  of  anything  right  in  this  business. 
Might  as  well  end  it  first  as  last,  without  any  of  this 
foolery.     It'll  come  to  the  same  thing  in  any  case." 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  said  Molly  bluntly.  "  Jest  as  it 
pleases  ye.  Maybe  ye've  money  enough  to  pay  this 
cove  that's  waitin'  for  ye  downstairs,  and  it  don't  make 
no  difference  to  you  how  soon  he  finds  ye." 


FREE   TO    SERVE  17 

"  If  I  had,  you  may  wager  I'd  not  be  long  in  this  posi- 
tion," replied  the  young  man  bitterly. 

"  Then,  sir,"  said  Molly  earnestly,  "  don't  you  be 
thinkin'  of  puttin'  yerself  nowhere  near  that  bailiff. 
Don't  I  know  jest  what  it  means?  There's  my  uncle  got 
took  twenty-three  years  ago  come  June,  long  afore  I  was 
born,  and  ain't  out  yet,  nor  like  to  be.  And  what  did  he 
owe  at  the  beginnin'  ?  A  paltry  five  shillin's,  and  no 
more,  but  it's  more  pounds  to-day  than  he'll  ever  see  in 
all  his  born  days.  There's  only  one  way  out  for  him, 
and  that's  through  a  precious  narrow  gate.  Don't  you 
be  a  fool,  sir.  Keep  out  o'  that  feller's  way,  if  ye  hev 
to  stop  here  till  the  middle  o'  the  night." 

"Where's  the  fellow  sitting?"  asked  the  young  man 
sharply. 

"  In  the  front  room,  where  he  can  keep  an  eye  on  the 
entry  and  the  street.      You  couldn't  —  " 

"  Couldn't  what?  " 

"  Look  here,  sir,"  said  Molly,  dropping  her  voice  to  a 
low  whisper,  "  if  you'd  a  mind  to  crawl  through  the  coal- 
hole, you  could  get  out  at  the  back  side  o'  the  yard. 
The  missis  is  in  the  kitchen,  and  neither  she  nor  him 
couldn't  spy  ye  there.  You've  got  to  turn  sharp  at  the 
foot  o'  the  stairs,  and  pop  right  into  the  coal-hole.  He 
can't  see  ye  if  ye  don't  go  a  step  further'nthe  last  stair." 

"  Then  the  coal-hole  let  it  be,"  said  the  young  man, 
and  as  a  result  of  the  decision,  a  youth,  liberally  smirched 
with  coal-dust,  with  a  wig  very  much  awry,  and  unmis- 
takable marks  of  disorder  about  his  whole  person, 
emerged  from  the  privacy  of  a  back  yard,  and  was  glad 
to  hide  himself  in  a  sedan-chair,  and  be  borne  away  from 
present  danger  by  two  lusty  porters. 


1 8  FREE  TO  SERVE 


CHAPTER  III 

"  y^"^  H  !  It's  you,  Fulke,  is  it?  What,  in  the  name 
I       J  of  all  that's  ridiculous,  brings  you  here  at  this 

^<-^  hour  of  the  day?  And,  pray,  have  you  been 
fighting  with  a  coal-barge?  " 

It  was  not  altogether  an  inappropriate  greeting  for  a 
young  man  whose  last  experience  had  been  that  of 
crawling  through  a  coal-cellar. 

Fulke  Nevard  tried  to  look  unconcerned,  and  failed 
dismally.  The  day  had  already  seemed  wretchedly  long 
to  him,  but  he  was  aware,  when  he  paid  the  chairmen, 
and  ran  upstairs  to  his  friend's  room,  that  it  was  still 
unfashionably  early  for  a  man  of  pretension  to  be  abroad. 
The  young  beau  he  had  come  to  see  was  yet  in  his  bed, 
daintily  sipping  chocolate,  and  looking  over  a  letter  or 
two  which  had  arrived  by  way  of  that  convenient  insti- 
tution established  in  the  behalf  of  dwellers  in  the  metropo- 
lis —  the  London  penny  post. 

"  Any  news?  "  asked  the  young  man  languidly. 

"  News  enough  for  me,  more's  the  pity,"  was  the 
answer.     "Wyville's  been  as  good  as  his  word." 

"About —  Oh,  I  understand!  Had  he  taken  any 
legal  steps  against  you?  " 

"  No  ;  but  Matthews,  the  peruke-maker,  had,  and  Wy- 
ville  was  to  lend  me  thirty  pounds  to  pay  him  with. 
Now,  of  course,  he  has  given  the  rascally  fellow  a  hint  to 
come  down  on  me,  and  the  consequence  is,  I'm  wanted." 

''  Ah  !      Uncomfortable  for  you.     Can't  you  raise  it?  " 

"  Not  in  the  world.  I've  borrowed  of  everybody  that 
would  lend  me  so  much  as  a  pound.  Wyville's  been 
advancing  for  me  this  year  or  more,  curse  him.  Better 
have  let  it  come  sooner,  when  I  was  not  so  deep  in," 


FREE   TO    SERVE  19 

"You  owe  Wyville  a  good  round  sum?"  questioned 
the  other,  leisurely  beginning  that  most  important  busi- 
ness of  the  day  —  the  making  of  his  toilet. 

"  Goodness  knows  what  I  owe  him  ;    I  don't." 

Fulke  Nevard  turned  to  stare  gloomily  out  of  the  win- 
dow, while  his  companion  proceeded  to  draw  carefully 
over  his  knee  a  long  rolling  silk  stocking  of  softest  blue, 
graced  with  clock  of  silver.  He  critically  surveyed  the 
shapely  leg,  and  the  effect  of  the  stocking  upon  it,  before 
he  spoke  again. 

"  Pity  you  hadn't  kept  that  little  debt  in  your  mind 
before  you  stopped  Wyville's  game  last  night,"  he  re- 
marked, smoothing  out  a  wrinkle,  and  holding  up  the 
stocking's  mate. 

Fulke  tapped  impatiently  upon  the  window-pane. 

•'  Of  course  I  was  a  fool,"  he  said  testily. 

"  Y-es,"  drawled  his  friend,  in  a  moment  of  abstraction 
caused  by  the  effort  to  make  the  second  stocking  roll 
equally  well  with  the  first. 

"  Vastly  prompt  of  Wyville  to  put  Matthews  on  you 
so  soon,"  he  remarked,  after  a  long  silence.  "  I'll  wager 
he'll  not  stop  at  this." 

"  He'll  not  stop  at  anything  short  of  the 'worst  he  can 
do,"  responded  Fulke  savagely. 

"  The  wench  wasn't  worth  the  risk,"  commented  the 
other,  giving  the  subject  the  fag  end  of  his  attention. 
The  major  part  was  engrossed  by  the  effort  to  arrange 
in  becoming  creases  the  fine  lawn  sleeves  that  puffed 
out  below  his  large  coat-cuffs.  He  stopped  a  moment 
to  survey  the  droop  of  the  lace  frill  over  his  hand.  Fulke 
watched  his  movements  impatiently. 

"  Wyville's  a  brute !  "  he  broke  out  with  at  last. 

"  He's  a  rich  brute,  then,  and  a  savage  brute,  when  he's 
roused.     What  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"  Rot  in  prison,  I  suppose." 

"  Not  a  prodigiously  pleasant  prospect.      Confound 


20  FREE   TO    SERVE 

this  cravat !     My  fingers  are  slow  to  get  the  go  of  the 
latest  turn.     Does  it  hang  passably,  think  you?  " 

Fulke  cast  a  scornful  glance  at  the  bit  of  point  lace 
the  other  was  attempting  to  adjust  after  the  most  ap- 
proved style.  Just  now  lace-edged  cravats  were  little  to 
his  taste. 

"  It  is  surely  becoming  ravelled  at  the  ends,  after  the 
pretty  penny  it  cost  me,"  lamented  the  beau.  "  And 
the  only  other  I  possess  is  in  a  worse  way.  You  will  at 
least  have  no  care  about  your  apparel,  Fulke,  when  you 
are  secluded  from  the  world." 

"  You  might  show  a  little  friendliness,  and  help  me 
out,"   said  Fulke  savagely. 

"  With  all  my  heart.     But  what  can  I  do?  " 

"  Go  and  talk  things  over  with  Wyville.  Find  out 
whether  he  really  means  mischief.  But  for  heaven's 
sake  don't  give  him  a  hint  I'm  here.  If  you  do,  it's  all 
up  with  me." 

"  I'll  be  silent  as  the  grave.  But  split  me  if  I 
think  it'll  be  a  bit  of  use.  Wyville's  a  very  brute  to 
hang  on  when  he  takes  a  notion.  Still,  I'll  hasten  to  see 
him,  and  if  anything  can  be  done  for  you,  you  may  rest 
assured  the  case  could  not  be  in  better  hands." 

The  speaker  dallied  long  with  the  sleeve  knot  he  was 
tying,  stopped  to  assure  himself  that  his  sword  hung  low 
upon  his  thigh,  and  gave  a  last  admiring  glance  at  the 
gay  shoulder  knot,  before  he  tucked  his  cocked  hat 
under  his  arm,  and  waved  a  studied  adieu  with  the  hand 
that  held  his  lace-fringed  gloves. 

Left  to  his  own  devices,  Fulke  Nevard  betook  himself 
to  the  depressing  occupation  of  seeking  a  way  through 
his  difficulties.  The  young  man  whom  —  in  a  fit  of  gen- 
erosity towards  a  stranger  —  he  had  antagonized  the 
night  before,  was  the  leader  of  the  set  Fulke  most 
affected,  occupying  that  position  partly  by  reason  of  the 
wealth  which  gave  him  an  advantage  over  his  more  needy 


FREE   TO    SERVE  21 

associates,  and  partly  by  an  arrogant  boldness  of  char- 
acter, which  made  him  foremost  in  every  reckless  deed. 
To  this  young  man  Fulke  Nevard  stood  indebted,  how 
deeply  he  hardly  dared  to  reckon.  Wyville  was  no 
niggard,  and  his  advances  to  his  friend  had  helped  the 
latter  out  of  more  than  one  uncomfortable  position. 

Of  his  own  legitimate  resources  the  young  man  found 
it  a  very  short  matter  to  take  account.  He  simply  had 
no  income  but  that  derived  from  his  practice  as  assist- 
ant to  a  semi-fashionable  doctor,  and,  with  his  style  of 
living,  it  fell  far  short  of  meeting  expenses.  Diamond 
buckles,  and  flowing  periwigs,  to  say  nothing  of  cravats 
edged  with  point  lace  a  quarter  of  a  yard  in  width,  were 
items  of  expenditure  that  called  for  a  liberal  income. 
And  the  income  of  Fulke  Nevard  was  not  likely  to  be 
liberal  for  many  years  to  come. 

Under  these  circumstances  he  could  ill  afford  to  quar- 
rel with  Wyville,  and  as  he  looked  at  his  own  bandaged 
wrist,  he  thought  ruefully  of  the  savage  sword-thrust  he 
had  given  that  youth,  and  felt  convinced  he  would  have 
his  revenge  for  every  pang  it  cost  him.  He  was  in  no 
wise  reassured  by  the  return,  some  hours  later,  of  the 
friend  he  had  dispatched  to  sound  the  depths  of  Wy- 
ville's  wrath, 

"  On  my  faith,  I'm  sorry  for  you,"  were  the  words 
with  which  he  was  greeted,  while  the  speaker  crossed 
the  floor  with  affected  slowness,  and  dropped  in  a  grace- 
ful attitude  upon  a  chair.  "  For  myself,  I'm  undone. 
This  beastly  rain  has  played  the  mischief  with  my  per- 
uke, and  as  for  these  shoes  —  look  at  them  !  " 

He  held  the  spattered  footgear  forward. 

Fulke  glanced  towards  the  window.  Absorbed  in  his 
own  thoughts,  he  had  not  noticed  the  thickening  of  the 
clouds,  and  the  sorry  condition  of  his  host's  apparel  was 
to  him  the  first  intimation  of  the  shower.  Now,  brought 
back  suddenly  to  a  sense  of  existing  conditions,  he  sur- 


22  FREE   TO    SERVE 

veyed  without  a  trace  of  mirth  the  light  silk  stockings, 
liberally  splashed  with  London  mud,  that  mixture  of 
abominable  ingredients  the  true  nature  of  which  it  was 
best  not  to  dwell  upon.  From  thence  his  eye  travelled 
upwards  to  the  peruke,  that,  in  a  state  of  lank  collapse, 
gave  little  sign  of  the  glory  of  tightly  curling  flaxen 
locks  that  had  bedecked  their  owner's  shoulders  a  short 
time  before.  The  heavy  spring  shower  had  reduced 
the  hair  to  its  original  straightness,  and  the  wearer  to  a 
state  of  desperation. 

"It's  hugely  annoying  to  be  served  this  way,"  he 
grumbled ;  "  and  not  a  hackney  coach  nor  a  chair  to  be 
had  for  love  or  money." 

He  did  not  find  it  necessary  to  add  that  of  the  latter 
he  had  not  much  to  offer. 

"  I  was  near  enough  to  home  to  be  in  a  fair  way  to 
beat  the  rain,"  he  continued.  "  But  the  storm  came  on 
apace,  and  now  I'm  all  spent,  and  no  end  of  mischief 
done." 

"  And  Wyville?     Did  you  see  him?  "  asked  Fulke. 

"  I  saw  him,  surely,"  said  the  other,  ruefully  surveying 
the  damage  to  the  wig  he  had  removed  from  his  head, 
"  and  I  spent  much  time  in  friendly  converse  with  him. 
As  a  result  of  my  observations  I  may  tell  you  that 
Wyville  of  Wyville  is  no  soft  enemy." 

Fulke  made  an  impatient  gesture. 

"  He  says  he'll  see  you  rot  in  prison,  and,  so  far  from 
helping  you  out,  he'll  run  up  every  expense  those  rascals 
of  the  law  can  invent,  to  make  your  case  the  worse.  He 
calls  you  an  ungrateful  beggar,  and  curses  every  one  who 
has  a  word  to  say  to  you.  I  warn  you,  in  a  friendly  way, 
that  you  may  expect  a  little  coolness  from  your  acquaint- 
ances in  consequence.  Wyville's  enmity  is  not  a  thing 
to  be  lightly  incurred,  even  for  a  friend." 

"  Pity  you  came  out  on  the  wrong  side,"  said  Fulke 
bitterly. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  23 

"  Oh,  as  to  that,  I  was  in  no  danger,"  replied  the  other, 
with  cool  effrontery.  •'  I  could  ill  afford  to  make  a  foe 
when  a  little  well-timed  abuse  of  a  fool  would  earn  me  a 
friend.  I  could  but  call  you  all  the  villains  I  could  twist 
my  tongue  to,  and,  by  all  that's  holy,  if  you're  not  a 
scoundrel  you're  a  fool,  to  cut  up  as  mad  a  caper  as  that 
of  last  night.  So  it  made  no  great  odds  to  give  you  your 
due  out  of  one  measure  instead  of  the  other." 

Fulke  winced  at  the  unpleasant  candour,  but  he  could 
not  afford  to  be  offended. 

"Will  he  carry  out  his  threat,  do  you  think?"  he 
asked, 

"  Will  he?  Will  the  tiger  spring  on  his  prey?  I  tell 
you  Wyville's  dead  in  earnest." 

"  Then  it's  all  up  with  me,"  said  Fulke  desperately, 

"  Something  very  like  it,  unless  you  can  raise  the  full 
amount  you  owe  him.  Wish  I  could  help  you,  but,  on 
my  faith,  I'm  in  near  as  bad  a  taking  myself," 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  heavy  rap  at  the  door,  and 
Fulke,  with  a  hurried  warning  to  his  friend  on  no  account 
to  betray  his  presence,  retreated  into  a  small  inner 
room,  and  listened  breathlessly.  He  was  so  certain  the 
intruder  was  a  bailiff,  and  the  moment  of  his  capture  at 
hand,  that  the  first  words  were  not  enough  to  reassure 
him. 

"  The  maid  below  asserted  that  a  doctor  was  to  be 
found  here,  and  in  truth  I  stand  in  need  of  one,"  said  the 
stranger, 

"For  what  purpose?"  Fulke  heard  his  host  in- 
quire. 

"  That  he  may  bind  up  my  head,  knocked  to  pieces 
in  a  row  with  a  rascally  porter." 

The  speaker  came  forward  into  the  light,  and  removed 
his  finger  from  the  edges  of  a  broad,  gaping  wound  upon 
his  forehead. 

"Fulke,  here's  work  for  you,  and  maybe  the  chance 


24  FREE   TO    SERVE 

of  making  money  by  it,"  called  the  young  man.  "  No 
mischief  lurking  here.  It's  an  honest  wound,"  he  added, 
as  he  led  the  stranger  to  the  door  of  the  inner  room. 

They  stood  for  a  moment  surveying  each  other.  The 
stranger  spoke  first. 

"  You  are  a  doctor,  sir?  " 

"  Men  call  me  so,"  was  the  answer. 

"Then  I'll  place  my  battered  head  in  your  hands, 
though,  by  the  look  of  things,  I  should  say  your  need 
was  equal  to  my  own,"  he  said,  looking  significantly  at 
the  young  doctor's  bandaged  arm. 

Fulke  paid  no  heed  to  the  insinuation,  but  with  fingers 
remarkably  deft,  when  his  own  disabled  condition  was 
taken  into  account,  proceeded  to  attend  to  the  injured 
forehead.  The  patient,  a  man  older  by  ten  years  than  the 
operator,  watched  his  movements  closely. 

"  You've  more  on  your  mind  than  the  care  of  a  broken 
head  and  a  bandaged  arm,"   he  said  at  length. 

"  And  pray,  sir,  what  may  it  concern  any  but  myself 
how  much  or  how  little  I  have  on  my  mind?  "  asked  the 
young  doctor  coldly. 

"  Surely  it  concerns  them  not  at  all ;  but  one  who  has 
seen  his  fellows  under  many  aspects  learns  to  look  be- 
neath the  surface.  I  have  no  wish  to  intermeddle  with 
the  concerns  of  any." 

The  young  doctor  looked  at  him  sharply,  tightened 
the  hastily  improvised  bandage,  and  then  looked 
again. 

"  If  you  have  seen  much  of  the  world,"  he  said,  "  you 
have  learned  that  there  are  fools  enough  in  it." 

"  And  you  would  imply  that  I  have  but  now  met  with 
another?  " 

It  may  have  been  due  to  some  magnetism  in  the 
stranger's  personality,  or  it  may  have  been  owing  to  the 
desperate  nature  of  Fulke's  circumstances,  but  it  was 
not  many  minutes  before  the  young  doctor  was  found 


FREE   TO    SERVE  25 

unburdening  himself  to  his  new  patient,  and  explaining 
to  him  the  cause  of  his  anxiety.  An  hour  passed 
while  yet  the  two  were  in  close  confab,  and  when  at  last 
the  elder  rose  to  go  he  said : 

"  If  you  think  best  to  give  it  a  trial,  send  a  letter  to 
me  at  the  coffee-house  called  Lloyd's." 


26  FREE   TO    SERVE 


CHAPTER    IV 

THE  whole  village  had  turned  out,  from  Lady 
Betty  and  Sir  Julian,  of  the  Great  House,  to  the 
old  dame  who  had  seen  every  wedding  in  the 
place  for  nigh  upon  a  century.  A  straggling  line  of 
watchers  dotted  the  broad  road  all  the  way  from  a  cer- 
tain picturesque  dwelling  standing  back  among  the 
trees,  to  the  door  of  the  church  itself.  Literally  all  the 
way,  for  one  or  two  of  the  rustics,  a  little  bolder  than 
their  neighbours,  had  stationed  themselves  in  the  broad 
avenue  beyond  the  great  gates,  eager  to  be  the  first  to 
give  notice  of  the  coming  of  the  bridal  pair.  Of  these, 
the  nearest  to  the  door  itself  was  a  sturdy  youth,  whose 
red-striped  breeches  and  frieze  coat  were  manifestly 
gala  attire.  His  self-satisfied  glances,  first  at  his  own 
person  and  then  at  the  closed  door,  revealed  the  fact  that 
he  stood  in  closer  relationship  to  the  principal  actors 
in  to-day's  scenes  than  did  the  majority  of  the  villag- 
ers. There  was  an  air  of  superiority  in  the  majestic 
wave  of  the  hand  with  which  he  motioned  the  nearest 
rustic  to  keep  at  a  more  respectful  distance  from  the 
house.  The  superiority  was  plainly  unquestioned,  for 
the  intruder  fell  back  to  a  position  closer  to  the  outside 
world,  and  the  ruddy-faced  youth  was  left  to  enjoy  his 
honours  alone.  As  the  apprentice  and  right-hand  man 
of  the  village  carpenter,  he  was  fairly  entitled  to  the  dis- 
tinction of  being  the  first  to  raise  the  cry  of  "  Here  they 
be  !  '  Since  the  rising  of  the  sun  he  had  been  the 
busiest  man  in  Eastenholme,  as  the  long  white  trail 
from  the  gates  to  the  church  bore  witness.  Crisp  and 
clean  and  sweet-scented  was  that  bridal  path,  and  no 
hands  but  those  of  the  carpenter's  sturdy  assistant  had 


FREE   TO    SERVE  27 

helped  in  its  making.  Its  foundation  was  the  well-trod- 
den footway  that  skirted  the  road  through  the  village, 
and  that  now,  in  its  altered  condition,  was  a  source  of 
much  temptation  to  the  juvenile  element  among  the 
watchers. 

"  Keep  off  o'  that  path,  can't  ye  ?  "  and  "  Git  off  there, 
you  young  varmint !  How  dare  ye  set  foot  on  them 
shavin's?"  were  now  and  again  the  gentle  admonishings 
of  some  village  dame,  as  an  adventurous  youngster  es- 
sayed to  test  the  character  of  the  path  of  honour. 

"  Drat  the  young  beggar  !  Come  off,  I  tell  ye  !  " 
screeched  an  excited  matron,  springing  forward  to  be- 
stow a  well-aimed  cuff  upon  the  cheek  of  a  small  boy, 
and  succeeding  so  well  that  she  landed  him  sprawling  in 
the  midst  of  the  thick,  soft  shavings  upon  which  he  had 
ventured  to  set  his  presumptuous  feet. 

"  Look  a-there  what  you've  done  !  "  she  added,  as  she 
lifted  the  youngster  by  one  arm,  and  deposited  him,  with 
a  warning  shake,  well  out  on  the  road.  "Look  at  that 
path  !  And  them  shavin's  fresh  and  clean  from  his  own 
workshop  !  " 

Clean  and  fresh  they  certainly  were,  and  so  thickly 
spread  as  to  suggest  an  abundant  source  of  supply.  It 
might  well  be  abundant,  for  it  had  long  been  accumu- 
lating for  this  very  occasion. 

"  I'll  give  her  a  road  to  walk  on  that's  fit  for  a  carpen- 
ter's bride,"  worthy  John  Arkwright  had  declared.  "It'd 
be  none  too  good  for  Joan,  though  I  should  pile  it  a  foot 
high." 

And  with  Joan  in  his  mind  the  village  carpenter  had 
stored  up  his  shavings,  that  the  local  custom,  long  ob- 
served in  that  Kentish  village,  of  strewing  the  path  from 
the  house  to  the  church  with  the  symbols  of  the  bride- 
groom's calling,  might  in  his  case  be  not  only  appropri- 
ate, but  pretty  enough  and  pleasant  enough  to  be  worthy 
of  his  bride.     For  John  had  waited  long  for  Joan,  and 


28  FREE   TO    SERVE 

his  joy  when  the  time  of  waiting  was  ended  was  in  pro- 
portion to  the  length  of  his  probation.  And  so  the  long 
white  path  shone  under  the  April  sunshine,  and  a  sweet 
smell  of  pine  shavings  filled  the  air,  while  the  villagers 
commented  on  the  prodigality  of  the  preparations,  and 
the  personal  characteristics  of  the  carpenter  and  his 
bride. 

Meanwhile,  within  the  house  the  last  touches  were 
being  put  to  the  bridal  attire.  The  young  maiden  who 
acted  as  tirewoman  had  a  pretty  flush  on  her  cheeks,  as 
she  arrayed  the  bride  in  clothing  a  little  too  delicate  and 
costly  to  have  been  of  that  good  woman's  own  devising 
or  purchasing. 

"  There  !  He  who  will  not  wish  John  well  of  such  a 
bride  is  not  fit  to  gain  a  glimpse  of  you  to-day,"  she 
said,  bending  her  head  a  very  little  to  kiss  the  cheek 
that  was  turned  towards  her. 

"  Joan,"  she  added,  "  it  is  foolish,  I  know,  but  I'm 
truly  jealous  of  John.  I  feel  as  if  he  were  robbing  me 
of  you." 

"  Nay,  Miss  Aveline,  that  he  never  would,  nor  should. 
He  has  waited  over-long  for  me  now,  but  he'd  have 
waited  longer  if  there'd  been  any  question  of  doing  aught 
for  you  or  the  master  that's  gone  —  bless  him." 

She  laid  her  hand  caressingly  on  the  girl's  shoulder, 
and  a  look  of  anxiety  crossed  her  face. 

"  Now  John  will  have  reason  to  be  jealous,"  said  the 
girl,  with  an  attempt  at  playfulness. 

"  Not  he.  He  knows  better,  and  if  he  didn't,  he'd 
soon  learn  his  place.  You  and  the  master  have  stood 
first  always,  and  are  like  to  — leastways,  you  are.  There's 
no  more  we  can  any  of  us  do  for  him.  But  don't  you 
never  think  there's  anybody,  not  even  John  himself, 
that's  going  to  be  thought  of  before  you." 

She  stood  for  a  moment  looking  straight  into  the 
girl's  eyes,  her  own  soft  with  tenderness,  for  it  was  many 


FREE   TO    SERVE  29 

years  since,  as  a  little  child,  this  maiden  had  crept  into 
Joan's  heart. 

"  There,  now,"  cried  the  girl,  suddenly  changing  her 
tone,  "  your  last  chance  has  come  !  Take  one  good  long 
look  at  yourself  in  the  glass.  I  am  going  to  fasten  on 
this  knot  of  ribbon,  and  verily  it  is  the  last  finishing 
touch  to  the  bridal  costume.  Look  well  at  your  charms, 
for,  after  it  is  in  place,  woe  to  you  if  you  cast  so  much 
as  a  glance  towards  the  mirror.  For  well  you  know 
that  the  bride  who  looks  upon  herself  when  her  attire  is 
complete  is  tempting  ill-luck  to  dog  her  steps." 

What  bride  could  help  looking,  and,  at  the  sight,  how 
could  this  particular  bride  help  smiling?  She  made  a 
pleasing  picture,  standing  before  the  quaint  old  mirror, 
for  John  was  not  wrong  in  boasting  that  he  was  to  wed 
as  handsome  a  woman  as  Eastenholme  could  furnish. 
A  well-built,  comely  woman,  straight  and  strong,  was 
Joan,  fit  mate  for  the  carpenter  whose  honest  industry 
had  enabled  him  to  prepare  for  her  a  home  a  little  better 
than  the  average  home  of  the  village. 

"  John  has  need  to  call  himself  a  fortunate  man  to-day," 
said  Aveline,  as,  the  last  ribbon  fastened  in  place,  she 
carefully  stepped  between  Joan  and  the  glass,  that  the  ill- 
luck  of  viewing  her  own  person  when  every  preparation 
was  complete  might  not  follow  the  bride. 

And  so  John  thought,  and  the  villagers  said,  as  the 
pair  walked,  with  many  a  conscious  glance,  along  the  path 
to  church,  where  Aveline  herself  acted  as  bridesmaid, 
and  Lady  Betty  and  Sir  Julian  were  the  first  to  greet  the 
bride  when  the  ceremony  was  ended. 

Later  in  the  day  the  house  within  the  big  gates  was 
thrown  open  wide,  and  sounds  of  merriment  reached  the 
road,  where  a  horseman  drew  rein  to  listen.  He  was 
hidden  from  view  by  a  clump  of  trees,  and  as  the  sounds 
continued  he  turned  his  horse's  head  and  rode  back  to 
where  a  narrow  lane  opened  into  the  highway.     There 


30  FREE   TO   SERVE 

was  laughter  and  good  cheer  up  there  at  the  house,  but 
apparently  he  did  not  wish  to  share  in  them,  nor  was 
he  particularly  pleased  at  their  presence.  In  truth,  it 
was  the  first  time  that  the  house  had  opened  its  doors 
to  the  Eastenholme  world  since  the  day  its  master  was 
carried  from  its  shelter.  It  was  for  this  reason  that 
John  had  waited  for  his  bride :  first,  that  she  might  per- 
form the  last  duties  for  her  master;  and  then,  that  no 
unseemly  haste  might  savour  of  want  of  respect  for  his 
memory. 

But  thoughts  of  sorrow  seemed  far  from  the  dwelling 
to-day,  as  men  and  maids,  the  swains  and  rustic  beauties 
of  the  village,  ranged  themselves  for  a  contest  they  would 
have  been  sorry  to  have  omitted  on  such  an  occasion  as 
this.  The  least-encumbered  space — the  big  broad  hall 
—  was  resorted  to  as  the  most  suitable  spot  for  the  carry- 
ing-out of  this  important  part  of  the  wedding  revels,  and, 
as  a  preliminary  step,  the  married  men  and  women,  with 
much  joking  at  the  expense  of  the  younger  members  of 
the  company,  dropped  out  of  the  ranks.  There  was  a 
stir  and  flutter  among  the  maidens,  and  a  little  shy 
nudging  on  the  part  of  the  bachelors,  while  they  ranged 
themselves  on  opposite  sides  for  the  deciding  of  that 
all-important  question,  who  amongst  the  girls  should  be 
the  next  to  be  called  a  bride,  to  be  followed  immediately 
after  by  the  pointing  out  of  the  lucky  youth  who,  of 
all  the  strong-armed,  stout-built  lads,  would  first  buy  a 
wedding-ring  and  take  to  himself  a  wife. 

"  Miss  Aveline !  Where's  Miss  Aveline?"  called  a 
daring  swain. 

"  Yes,  yes.  Miss  Aveline,  you've  got  to  come,  too  !" 
exclaimed  the  girls,  as  Aveline  appeared,  holding  in  her 
hand  a  shoe  that  had  more  than  once  seen  service  on 
her  own  little  foot. 

It  was  of  white  kid,  goloshed  with  black  velvet,  and 
was  clogged  to  keep  the  delicate  upper  from  the  ground. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  31 

That  clog  —  a  straight  strip  of  sole-leather,  passing  under 
the  heel,  and  fastened  in  at  the  toe  between  the  sole 
and  the  upper  —  did  not  make  the  shoe  a  partic- 
ularly convenient  thing  to  walk  with,  but  it  had  its  use 
on  a  muddy  road.  Now  the  shoe  was  held  aloft,  to  be 
seized  by  the  carpenter's  apprentice  himself. 

"  Now,  then,  maids  !     All  ready?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,  no  !  Not  till  Miss  Aveline  takes  her  place," 
was  the  general  cry,  and  Aveline  stepped  to  a  vacant 
spot  in  the  middle  of  the  row  of  girls. 

"  Now,  here  goes  !     One,  two,  three  !  " 

Away  sped  the  shoe,  falling  nowhere  within  the  hall, 
but  spinning  through  the  open  door  as  far  as  the  strong 
arm  of  the  youth  could  throw  it.  Then  there  was  a 
rush  and  a  scuffle  as  each  girl  tried  to  possess  herself 
of  the  coveted  shoe,  for  she  who  should  secure  it  might 
look  to  be  the  first  of  the  bevy  to  become  a  happy  bride. 
What  a  commotion  there  was  as  the  village  lasses  sought 
high  and  low  for  the  treasure ! 

Meanwhile  Aveline  disengaged  herself  from  the 
throng.  She  thought  she  had  seen  a  gleam  of  white 
over  in  a  clump  of  lilacs  upon  the  edge  of  the  old-fash- 
ioned garden.  To  reach  the  spot  unseen  she  stepped 
behind  the  shrubs  into  a  pathway  just  below  the  tall 
hedge.  She  did  not  chance  to  lift  her  eyes,  or  she 
would  have  seen  the  head  of  a  horseman  appearing  above 
the  greenery.  For  a  moment  the  rider  watched  her  as 
she  stooped  and  peered  through  the  bushes.  Then  he 
spoke. 

"  Aveline  !  "  he  said  softly.  She  started  and  turned 
round. 

"  Fulke  !     I'm  so  glad.     When  —  " 

"  Hush  !  Don't  bring  all  that  noisy  crew  on  top  of 
me,"  he  said.  "  What  are  they  doing,  rioting  over  the 
place  like  this?" 

The  light   died  from  the  girl's    face,   and  a  look  of 


32  FREE   TO    SERVE 

disappointment,  not  unmixed  with  reproach,  took  its 
place. 

"  Why,  you  must  know  that  this  is  Joan's  wedding-day. 
I  told  you  about  it  not  a  month  ago,  when  I  last  wrote  to 
you,"  she  said. 

"  Ah,  yes !  I  remember,  though  it  had  slipped  my 
mind.  But  what  has  that  to  do  with  all  this  com- 
motion? Couldn't  John  wed  Joan  in  a  quiet  way,  in- 
stead of  turning  the  place  upside  down,  or,  if  they  must 
needs  rampage,  could  no  other  spot  be  found  for  their 
revels?  " 

"  Fulke,  how  can  you?"  said  the  girl  indignantly. 
"  Do  you  think  I  would  let  Joan  be  wedded  from  any 
other  house  than  this?  Hasn't  she  been  here  ever 
since  she  was  a  young  girl,  so  that  it  is  almost  as  much 
her  home  as  it  is  mine?  I  believe  she  loves  it  nearly 
as  well  ae  I  do  myself." 

The  young  man  turned  his  head  away,  and  a  deeper 
shadow  crossed  his  face. 

"  You  girls  make  so  much  fuss  about  such  things,"  he 
said.  "  Of  course  I  know  Joan  has  been  a  faithful  ser- 
vant, but  as  long  as  she  was  safely  married,  it  could  make 
but  little  difference  whether  she  started  from  one  spot  or 
another  to  have  the  knot  tied.  For  the  matter  of  that, 
you  yourself  could  soon  learn  to  love  another  place  as 
well  as  this." 

He  spoke  with  evident  constraint.  If  Aveline  could 
have  seen  the  hand  that  held  the  reins,  she  would  have 
noticed  that  it  trembled.  Fulke  Nevard  was  not  much 
given  to  nervousness,  but  there  was  more  trepidation  than 
assurance  in  his  movements  just  then.  It  was  so  far  from 
easy  for  him  to  look  into  his  sister's  eyes,  that  he  did  not 
even  attempt  it. 

"  Fulke,  there  is  something  wrong,"  she  said,  ignor- 
ing his  last  speech. 


FREE   TO   SERVE  33 

Her  brother  sat  in  gloomy  silence,  looking  down  at 
his  horse. 

"  What  is  it?  "  asked  the  girl  anxiously. 

"  What  is  it?  "  he  repeated,  in  a  tone  of  suppressed 
passion.  "  Nothing,  only  I  am  the  most  unfortunate 
wretch  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  And  that  matters  little 
to  any  but  me,  I  suppose." 

"  Oh,  Fulke,  you  know  that  is  not  true  !  "  said  the  girl, 
the  tears  starting  to  her  eyes.  "  But  you  are  tired  and 
worried,  and  —     Why,  you  are  wounded  !  " 

For  he  had  raised  his  arm,  not  the  one  that  guided  the 
horse,  and  the  girl  had  caught  a  momentary  glimpse  of 
a  blood-stain  upon  the  sleeve. 

"  Oh,  this  wretched  scratch  has  broken  out  bleeding 
again  !  "  he  said. 

Then  Aveline  forgot  her  indignation,  and  her  heart 
found  reason  and  excuse  for  the  young  man's  irritation. 

"  Come  into  the  house,"  she  said  pityingly,  "  and  I  will 
send  one  of  the  lads  to  attend  to  your  horse.  You  were 
not  fit  to  ride." 

"  You  will  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  said  Fulke.  "  Go 
jback  to  your  games,  and  leave  me  to  see  to  the  animal 
f  myself.  I  tell  you  I  will  not  have  that  set  staring  at  me. 
I'll  slip  in  by  the  side  door,  and  keep  quiet  till  their 
sport  is  over;  but  go  you  back  to  the  rest,  or  they'll  be 
seeking  you  here." 

Then,  as  she  turned  to  leave  him,  he  leant  over  the 
hedge. 

"  Aveline,  I'm  a  desperate  man,"  he  said.  "  I've  no 
heart  for  revels,  and  no  tongue  for  smooth  words.  Go, 
like  a  good  girl,  and  keep  the  coast  clear." 

And  Aveline,  her  heart  oppressed  by  a  weight  she  did 
not  understand,  sought  her  guests,  and  tried  to  laugh 
and  be  gay  while  the  blushing,  satisfied  maiden  who  had 
gained  possession  of  the  shoe  tossed  it  back  into  the 
ranks  of  the  waiting  youths,  and  a  scuffle,  less  prolonged, 


34  FREE    TO    SERVE 

if  more  vigorous,  than  the  last,  gave  it  into  the  keeping 
of  the  lad  destined  by  force  of  arm  to  possess  it  and  the 
promise  it  brought.  But  the  girl's  thoughts  were  not 
following  her  eyes,  for  all  the  time  she  was  listening  for 
the  sound  of  her  brother's  step,  and  trying  to  quiet  her 
fears  as  she  recalled  his  excited  tones,  and  thought  of 
the  great  red  stain. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  35 


CHAPTER    V 

"  I     >ULKE,  there  is  something  dreadful  the  matter  !  " 

1^  Aveline  laid  her  hand  tenderly  on  her  brother's 
j|-      arm. 

"  That?  "  he  said,  in  a  hard,  dry  tone.  "  'Tis  nothing. 
A  sword-thrust,  a  mere  scratch.  I  rode  hard,  or  it 
would  not  have  bled  again." 

"  But  it  ought  to  be  attended  to,"  said  Aveline  anx- 
iously. 

"  As  you  will.     It  has  grown  stiff." 

He  began  slowly  to  undo  the  bandage,  and  Aveline  ran 
to  fetch  fresh  linen.  When  she  returned  she  found  her 
place  usurped  by  Joan. 

"  That's  right,  Miss  Aveline.  It  needs  new  bandages 
sadly.  It's  not  easy  to  look  at  that  wound  and  believe 
that  Mr.  Fulke  is  a  doctor,"  said  the  woman  bluntly. 

She  replaced  the  linen  with  a  skill  that  told  of  long 
practice  in  that  very  necessary  art.  The  young  man 
submitted  his  arm  to  her,  scarcely  bestowing  a  glance 
upon  the  wound. 

"  And  how  came  you  by  so  ugly  a  thrust,  sir?  "  asked 
Joan,  as  she  smoothed  and  secured  the  bandage. 

"  Oh  !  a  little  altercation  with  a  companion.  It  was 
nothing,"  said  the  young  man,  in  a  tone  that  was  meant 
to  be  repressive. 

Joan  lingered.  She  was  not  satisfied.  She  had  not 
tended  these  two  from  childhood  without  knowing  well 
the  signs  of  disturbance. 

"  Will  you  sleep  here  to-night,  sir,  or  go  up  to  the 
House  with  Miss  Aveline?"  she  asked. 

"  Oh  !  I'll  stay  here.  I've  no  mind  for  one  of  Sir 
Julian's  lectures." 


36  FREE    TO    SERVE 

A  shade  of  annoyance  crossed  his  face  the  moment 
the  words  were  uttered.  They  were  too  near  the  truth 
to  be  exactly  what  he  desired  to  say. 

Joan  departed,  and  AveHne  hovered  round  her  brother. 

"  Have  you  had  anything  to  eat?     You  must  be  — " 

"  Nay,  I  dined  at  an  inn,  and  was  never  in  less  need 
of  food,"  said  the  young  man  irritably. 

Because  he  had  much  to  say,  he  found  it  particularly 
hard  to  speak,  and  grew  more  nervously  impatient  as 
he  discovered  that  certain  carefully  prepared  arguments 
were  growing  momentarily  less  convincing,  as  he  viewed 
them  in  the  light  of  his  present  surroundings. 

"  Fulke,  what  is  it?  " 

Aveline  had  been  studying  his  face  ever  since  Joan 
went  away. 

"  Ruin,"  said  Fulke  shortly. 

"  Is  it  money?  Couldn't  I  help  you?  I  have  a  little 
left,  and  we  have  found  a  tenant  for  the  house.  That 
will  bring  more." 

"  Yes,  you  can  help  prodigiously  if  you  can  get  up 
five  or  six  hundred  pounds  before  night,"  said  Fulke 
bitterly. 

"  Five  or  six  hundred  pounds?  " 

"  Exactly  so.  And  if  not,  you  can  have  the  pleasure 
of  bidding  good-by  to  your  brother  forever,  for  it's  a 
life  sentence." 

Aveline  turned  pale. 

"  Fulke,  what  do  you  mean?  "  she  said. 

*'  I  mean  that  a  very  fiend  has  his  clutches  on  me ; 
and  if  he  gain  his  will  —  and  heaven  knows  what's  to 
hinder  —  he  will  never  rest  till  he  sees  me  in  a  pau- 
per's grave." 

"  But  —  why  should  he?  Who  is  it?  What  does  he 
want?  " 

"Who  is  it?  Wyville  of  Wyville.  And  he  wants 
revenge,  and  will  have  it  too.     Trust  him  for  that." 


FREE   TO    SERVE  37 

Aveline  glanced  at  the  wounded  arm.  Instinctively 
she  associated  the  sword-thrust  with  this  desire  for 
revenge,  and  the  tangible  evidence  of  danger  gave  force 
to  her  brother's  words. 

"  Aye,"  he  said,  interpreting  the  look,  "  it's  the  mark 
of  his  sword,  but  I  doubt  I  gave  him  a  worse  prick, 
more's  the  pity." 

Bit  by  bit  she  heard  the  story ;  that  is  to  say,  as  much 
of  it  as  Fulke  felt  it  expedient  to  impart.  There  were 
many  reservations  quite  necessary  when  a  man  was  talk- 
ing to  his  sister.  Aveline  followed  the  recital  breath- 
lessly. 

•'  How  did  you  get  away?  "  she  asked,  when  the  tale 
was  told. 

"  Sneaked  off  like  a  thief,  before  the  city  was  awake." 

"And  now?  Couldn't  you  stay  here?  You  would 
be  safe  then." 

"  For  how  long,  I  pray  you  ?  I  would  give  a  good  bit 
to  discover  the  spot  in  England  where  I  should  be  safe 
from  Wyville's  pursuit.  He  will  move  heaven  and  earth 
to  be  revenged,  and  he  knows  the  locality  of  this  place 
about  as  well  as  I  do  myself.  I  should  not  be  surprised 
to  see  a  bailiff  walk  in  at  this  moment." 

Aveline  glanced  apprehensively  towards  the  open 
window.     Fulke  laughed  —  a  harsh,  mirthless  laugh. 

"  Don't,  Fulke,"  said  the  girl  hastily.  "  You  behave 
as  if  nobody  cared." 

"  And  for  the  matter  of  that,  who  does  care?  "  asked 
the  young  man. 

"  I  do.     You  know  I  do." 

Her  brother  shrugged  his  shoulders,  but  made  no 
other  answer.     She  laid  her  hand  on  his. 

"  There's  nobody  but  us  two  now,"  she  said. 

"  Very  true,"  he  answered,  letting  the  words  come 
slowly.  "  Only  us  two,  but  how  much  docs  that  mean 
to  you  ?     What  would  you  do  to  save  me  from  a  life 


38  FREE   TO   SERVE 

worse  than  death?  Nothing  !  There,"  he  added,  half 
relenting  when  he  met  her  reproachful  look,  "  I've  no 
doubt  I'm  a  brute,  but  I'm  desperate,  and  to  me  it 
seems  —  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Aveline  quietly,  "  it  seems  —  " 

"  That  real  love  would  not  stop  to  weigh  a  brother's 
life  against  —  even  a  place  like  this." 

He  gave  a  long,  comprehensive  glance,  that  took  in 
house  and  garden  and  surroundings.  Aveline's  eyes 
were  fixed  on  his  face.  Her  cheek  had  lost  every  trace 
of  colour.     Even  her  lips  had  grown  white. 

"  Which  means  —  what?  "  she  said. 

"  Who  said  it  meant  anything?  Yes,  if  you  will  have 
it,  it  means  that  there  is  more  sisterly  kindness  in  a 
little  real  help  than  in  many  a  mouthful  of  sympathy." 

Aveline  winced,  but  her  steady  gaze  did  not  relax. 

"What  would  you  propose  in  the  place  of  the  sympa- 
thy?" she  asked  ;  but  while  she  said  the  words  she  knew 
what  the  answer  would  be. 

He  turned  upon  her  eagerly. 

"  Aveline,  you  could  help  me.  There  is  a  way.  And 
it  would  not  be  so  very  hard,  if  you  could  only  think  it." 

That  steady  gaze  continued.  It  disconcerted  him. 
He   moved   uneasily. 

"  This  place,  now,"  he  continued.  "  It  is  yours,  of 
course.     I  don't  deny  your  right  to  it." 

"No?" 

He  had  stopped,  as  if  for  an  answer. 

"  Aveline,  this  place  would  save  me." 

There  was  no  response. 

"  And  you  should  not  lose  by  it.  Not  a  penny.  In 
fact,  you  would  gain.  It  is  really  as  much  for  your  good 
as  for  my  own.  But  of  course  you  cannot  see  it  so  now. 
But  you  can  see  that  it  would  save  me." 

The  last  words  were  spoken  pleadingly. 

"Yes  — I  see." 


FREE   TO    SERVE  39 

She  understood  his  meaning  perfectly.  She  had 
known  all  along  to  what  he  was  coming,  but  the  extent 
of  his  demand  was  growing  more  clearly  apparent. 

"  I  know  you  love  the  place,"  continued  the  young 
man  eagerly.  "  And  so,  for  the  matter  of  that,  do  I. 
It's  a  fine  old  place,  and  it's  a  thousand  pities  to  part 
with  it,  but  I'm  not  asking  you  to  let  it  go  for  nothing. 
The  plan  I  would  propose  would  make  you  the  richer 
instead  of  the  poorer,  and  —  " 

"  The  richer,  when  the  home  Jie  loved  belonged  to 
strangers?  " 

The  girl's  tones  were  very  low  and  distinct.  As  for 
her  eyes,  they  had  never  swerved  from  their  steady 
scrutiny  of  her  brother's  face.  He  grew  irritable  beneath 
the  gaze. 

"  I  did  not  ask  you  to  let  it  go  to  strangers,"  he  said. 
"  I  don't  know  that  I  ever  attempted  to  open  the  sub- 
ject. I  wasn't  such  a  fool  as  not  to  know  that  your  love 
for  the  place  was  greater  than  —  " 

He  hesitated  to  finish  the  sentence. 

"  Was  greater  than  my  love  for  you,"  said  AveHne 
quietly. 

"  Yes,"  cried  Fulke  passionately.  "  It  is  greater. 
You  set  a  higher  value  on  the  stone  and  mortar  of  this 
old  house  than  you  do  on  my  life.  I  doubt  not  you  are 
right.  One  is  of  infinitely  more  profit  to  you  than  the 
other." 

He  broke  off  abruptly.  The  silence  that  followed 
was  unbroken  by  any  movement  on  his  sister's  part. 
She  sat  looking  fixedly  at  him,  as  if  waiting  for  his  next 
remark. 

"  I  was  a  fool  to  enter  upon  the  subject  at  all,"  he 
resumed.  "You  asked  me  whether  there  was  anything 
you  could  do.  Heavens !  Did  you  think  a  few  soft 
words  could  avail  in  a  strait   like   mine? 

"  And  as  for  letting  the  place  go  to  a  stranger,"  he 


40  FREE   TO    SERVE 

continued,  cooling  down  under  the  influence  of  the  dead 
silence  that  followed  his  last  words,  and  possibly  influ- 
enced by  a  quick  glance  he  cast  in  Aveline's  direction, 
"  there  is  no  earthly  reason  why  it  should  ever  do  that. 
Sir  Julian  will  be  glad  enough  to  have  it.  But  if  there 
were,  I  know  not  why  your  feelings  should  be  further 
hurt,  since  it  is  to  be  in  the  hands  of  strangers  in  any 
case.  It  was  but  now  you  told  me  a  tenant  had  been 
found  for  it." 

"  True,"  said  Aveline.  "  I  have  regretted  much  that 
it  should  be  so.  Fulke,  does  it  really  seem  nothing  to 
you  that  careless  hands  will  touch  the  things  lie  loved? 
To  me  the  necessity  is  a  sorrow,  but  Uncle  Julian  says 
the  place  must  not  be  unused,  and  truly  it  is  the  only 
way  in  which  I  can  feel  myself  independent.  I  know 
father  wished  me  to  be  that." 

What  made  the  young  man  rise  and  walk  hastily  to 
the  window?  He  was  silent  for  some  minutes,  but  over 
the  face  that  he  kept  persistently  turned  to  the  land- 
scape without  there  came  signs  of  a  conflict.  He  turned 
round  suddenly. 

"  There's  no  hope  and  no  help  for  a  fellow  when 
once  he  gets  into  trouble,"  he  said  hoarsely.  "  Every 
step  he  takes  to  drag  himself  out  but  plunges  him 
deeper  in  the  mire.  Thank  goodness,  you're  a  girl, 
and  have  no  temptation  to  be  anything  but  exemplary. 
For  me,  I'm  undone.  I  give  up  the  struggle.  There's 
no  way  out ;    I  fancied  there  might  be." 

He  sank  into  his  old  seat,  and  dropped  his  head  in 
his  hands.  He  had  come  here  clinging  desperately  to 
a  hope  that  in  his  heart  he  knew  had  but  a  slender 
foundation.  He  had  put  that  hope  between  him  and 
ruin.  At  this  moment  there  was  forced  upon  him  the 
conviction  that  it  was  possible  for  the  alternative  to  be 
a  little  less  desirable  than  the  ruin  he  dreaded,  that 
the  turning  of  his  hope  into  a  certainty  might  be  more 


FREE    TO    SERVE  41 

of  a  calamity  than  a  blessing.  His  despair  did  more 
for  him  than  all  his  hot  words. 

"  Don't,  Fulke,  dear.  It  is  not  true  that  there  is  no 
way  out." 

Aveline's  hand  was  on  his  shoulder.  The  hardness 
had  gone  from  her  face.  If  her  brother  had  looked  up 
he  would  have  seen  that  her  lips  trembled. 

"  I  suppose  a  man  ought  to  have  the  courage  to  face 
destruction  when  he  has  been  fool  enough  to  court  it," 
said  Fulke,  without  raising  his  head. 

"  Perhaps  he  ought,"  said  the  girl,  with  honest  can- 
dour, "  but  it  might  be  easier  to  look  for  a  way  out. 
Tell  me  your  plan.  Though  you  give  me  but  a  hard 
character,  it  may  possibly  be  found  that  you  have  done 
me  scant  justice." 

Fulke  lifted  his  head  and  looked  at  her. 

"Better  not  ask  it,"  he  said.  "  I  am  a  sorry  coward, 
I  fear,  and  the  very  suggestion  of  deliverance  makes  me 
wild  enough  to  forget  everything  but  my  own  need. 
And  yet,  in  very  truth,  I  thought  I  could  see  a  great  gain 
to  you  in  the  move." 

His  face  had  begun  to  grow  eager  again.  Already  his 
carefully  prepared  arguments  were  gaining  the  mastery 
over  the  brief  impulse  towards  a  self-abnegation  that  had 
its  origin  in  an  unwonted  upspringing  of  the  sense  of 
justice   towards   another. 

"  What  is  it  you  were  going  to  propose?  " 

He  looked  at  her  irresolutely  for  a  moment,  and  then 
the  words  broke  forth  hurriedly. 

"  I  know  it  seems  impossible  to  you  that  I  should 
succeed  at  anything,"  he  said.  "  I  have  been  unlucky,  — 
a  fool,  if  you  will,  —  but  I  have  my  chance  at  last.  I  verily 
believe  it  is  the  chance  of  a  thousand.  A  little  money 
now  would  mean  a  fortune  in  a  fewyears.  Men  are  grow- 
ing rich  while  I  am  but  getting  deeper  in  difficulty.  Out 
in  the  colonies  of  America  I  could  turn  a  shilling  into  a 


42  FREE    TO    SERVE 

pound  in  no  time.  And  I  have  not  even  to  face  the  ques- 
tion of  experience.  I  may  go  with  one  who  has  enough 
experience  for  both.  He  is  wilHng  to  take  a  partner  in 
a  venture  he  is  about  to  make,  and  truly  I  think  myself 
fortunate  to  have  met  with  him  at  this  juncture." 

"  You  want  to  leave  England?  " 

The  question  came  almost  with  a  gasp. 

"What  else  can  I  do?"  said  Fulke.  "I  must  go 
somewhere,  if  I  would  keep  out  of  prison.  Where 
could  I  have  a  better  opening?  I  have  done  little 
enough  here." 

"  And  you  desire  to  go  and  leave  me  all  alone?  " 

The  words  were  reproachful. 

"  It  would  make  no  difference  to  you,"  said  Fulke. 
"  You  would  stay  with  Sir  Julian  and  Lady  Betty,  as 
usual." 

"And  no  difference  to  you?  Will  it  be  all  the  same 
to  you  when  the  sea  is  between  us  ?  " 

He  looked  at  her  inquiringly.  Somehow  it  was  not 
natural  for  him  to  view  things  in  the  light  of  what,  in  his 
inmost  heart,  he  called  sentiment. 

"  Of  course  I  should  prefer  to  remain  at  home.  It  is 
a  species  of  banishment,"  he  said.  "  But  it  is  better  to  be 
banished  than  to  be  imprisoned." 

"Then  you  really  intend  to  leave  me  behind?" 

"  Why,  yes  !  As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  never  occurred  to 
me  to  take  you  along." 

"  Did  it  occur  to  you  to  think  what  I  was  to  live  on 
when  this  place  was  gone?" 

Her  voice  was  growing  hard  again. 

"  Why,  you  will  have  to  stay  with  Sir  Julian  and  Lady 
Betty,  of  course.  There  could  be  no  better  arrange- 
ment." 

"  Stay  as  a  beggar?  " 

He  looked  at  her  sharply. 

"  There  will  be  no  thought  of  money  in  Sir  Julian's 


FREE   TO   SERVE  43 

mind,"  he  said.  "  He  and  Lady  Betty  will  be  just  as 
glad  to  have  you  then  as  now." 

"  And  you  are  content  that  your  sister  should  be  a 
pauper?  " 

"  What  nonsense  you  talk  !  "  said  Fulke  impatiently. 
"  As  if  there  could  ever  be  any  such  question  in  your 
case.  Of  course  you  will  repay  them  when  I  succeed. 
I  never  intended  this  money  to  be  anything  but  a  loan. 
You  shall  have  every  penny  of  it  again,  and  in  the  mean- 
time a  fair  share  of  the  profits  will  be  yours.  If  you  were 
a  man  instead  of  a  girl,  you  would  perceive  how  much 
this  scheme  is  to  your  advantage." 

"  Suppose  that  the  profits  should  be  naught?"  said 
Aveline. 

"  They  will  not  be.  It  is  impossible.  And  in  any 
case  you  would  be  safe.  Sir  Julian  would  never  grudge 
a  home  to  his  own  niece." 

"Fulke,"  said  Aveline,  slowly  and  thoughtfully,  "I 
do  not  know  whether  your  plan  be  a  wise  one  or  not, 
but  one  thing  is  certain.  If  you  go  to  the  colonies  in 
pursuance  of  this  scheme,  and  take  with  you  all  the 
money  this  place  will  bring,  you  will  not  go  alone.  If 
we  make  the  venture  together,  it  must  be  together." 

Her  eyes  were  reading  his  face.  For  the  moment  it 
expressed  annoyance  and  defeat.     Then  he  laughed. 

"  I  wonder  what  you  think  you  could  do  out  there," 
he  said. 

"  I  don't  know.  I  don't  pretend  to  know.  But 
under  the  circumstances  you  propose,  our  place  is 
together.     Does  it  make  the  alternative  harder?" 

There  was  a  wistful  tone  in  her  voice. 

"  Yes.     In  one  way  it  does." 

A  deeper  shadow  passed  over  her  face.  Fulke 
saw  it. 

"  You  are  a  foolish  child,"  he  said,  "  or  you  would 
not  think  you  know  better  than  your  elders.     It  is  not 


44  FREE   TO    SERVE 

reasonable  that  the  thought  of  taking  you  to  probable 
hardship  could  be  pleasant  to  me." 

But  even  as  he  spoke  Fulke  saw  possible  advantages 
in  the  plan.  If  Aveline  went  with  him,  Sir  Julian's 
guardianship  over  her  would  practically  cease,  and  the 
young  man  could  not  but  see  that  any  defection  on  his 
part  in  the  matter  of  payments  would  not  be  as  sum- 
marily visited  upon  his  head.  Not  that  he  had  any 
grave  doubts  of  ultimate  success.  Only  there  was 
always  the  possibility  of  failure,  and  in  taking  from 
Aveline  the  home  that  had  been  their  father's  provision 
for  his  daughter,  he  was  taking  from  her  everything  she 
possessed.  It  was  this  thought  that  had  almost  availed 
to  change  his  purpose. 

"  But  suppose  I  am  willing  to  put  up  with  the  hard- 
ship? " 

"  I  am  afraid  you  do  not  know  what  a  change  of  cir- 
cumstances it  will  be.  Life  in  the  Province  of  New 
York,  where  I  shall  go  if  I  venture  at  all,  is  not  like  life 
at  the  House." 

"But  we  should  be  together.  Could  I  not  make  it 
happier  for  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course  you  could,"  said  Fulke,  gaining  posses- 
sion of  the  hand  that  had  dropped  from  his  shoulder. 
^'  And  a  good  little  housekeeper  you  would  be.  But  it 
would  be  selfish  to  let  you  go.  Sir  Julian  would  never 
consent." 

It  was  so  long  before  the  discussion  ended  that  Joan 
had  found  time  to  clear  and  sweep  and  scrub  away 
every  trace  of  the  wedding  revellers,  and  John  was 
hovering  about,  persuading  her  to  shut  up  the  house 
and  come  with  him  to  the  new  village  home,  while  yet 
the  brother  and  sister  were  in  earnest  converse. 

"  Hoot,  man,  you  can  wait  a  bit  longer  on  Miss 
Aveline's  pleasure,"  said  Joan.  "  You  will  have  enough 
of  me  before  a  month  is  out,  I'll  answer  for  it." 


FREE   TO   SERVE  45 

But  John  was  impatient.  He  had  waited  for  Joan 
long  enough  to  make  him  imperious  in  this  day  of  the 
fulfilment  of  his  hopes.  Everything  was  in  readiness  for 
shutting  up  the  house.  Until  now  Joan  had  been  left  in 
charge  of  the  old  home,  though  Aveline  had  taken  up 
her  abode  at  the  Great  House  with  her  uncle.  Now 
the  place  was  to  be  closed  until  the  tenant  came.  Joan 
lingered  over  the  last  duties,  waiting  for  the  brother  and 
sister  to  appear. 

"  Better  go  and  remind  them  of  the  lateness  of  the 
hour,"  suggested  John.  "  They  have  lost  all  account 
of  time,  or  they  would  have  started  for  the  House 
before  this." 

"  Mr.  Fulke  said  he  should  stay  here,"  said  Joan. 
"  But  mayhap  he  will  think  better  of  it.  If  not,  I  must 
get  him  supper  before  I  go,  and  maybe  come  up  again 
to  see  that  all  is  comfortable  for  the  night." 

John's  answer  was  certainly  a  growl.  Just  now  he  did 
not  feel  particularly  loyal  to  the  young  man  who  was 
delaying  his  happiness, 

Joan's  hand  was  on  the  door-knob,  and  her  knuckles 
were  in  contact  with  the  door,  for  she  had  concluded  to 
know  her  fate,  even  at  the  risk  of  disturbing  Miss  Ave- 
line, when  the  handle  was  turned  from  the  inside,  and 
Fulke  threw  the  door  open  wide.  His  face  wore  a  soft- 
ened look  that  did  not  escape  Joan's  scrutinizing  eye. 

"  Why,  what  is  this?  "   he  asked,  as  he  stepped  back. 

"  I  was  coming  to  see  if  you  wanted  aught  else  to- 
night, sir,"  said  Joan,  in  nowise  disconcerted  by  the 
sudden  encounter.  "  It  is  getting  time  for  Miss  Aveline 
to  be  at  the  House,  and  as  for  John,  his  patience  has 
ebbed  out  long  ago,  and  he  is  like  to  begin  his  new  life 
with  a  fit  of  the  spleen." 

"  That  is  too  bad,  Joan,"  said  Aveline,  coming  to  the 
door  and  laying  her  hand  afTectionately  on  Joan's. 

"  Fulke,  you  had  better  come  up  to  the  House  with 


46  FREE    TO    SERVE 

me.  It  is  not  fair  to  cheat  Joan  of  her  wedding  pleas- 
ures." 

"  Nay,  good  Joan,  that  shall  not  be,"  said  the  young 
man,  in  the  hearty  tones  the  good  woman  remembered 
of  old.  "  I  will  even  shift  for  myself  to-night.  Go  you 
to  your  new  duties,  and  every  happiness  go  with  you." 

But  Joan  was  not  to  be  persuaded.  Not  until  the 
table  was  set  for  supper,  and  Fulke's  room  prepared  for 
him,  did  she  gladden  John's  heart  by  walking  through 
the  village  by  his  side.  It  was  in  the  quiet  time  between 
the  day  and  the  night,  and  under  the  overhanging  trees 
in  the  park,  through  which  Aveline  was  at  that  moment 
making  her  way,  the  shadows  were  thick.  They  availed 
to  hide  the  tears  that  she  would  not  for  anything  have 
allowed  Lady  Betty  or  Sir  Julian  to  see,  and  when  she 
came  out  into  the  open  space  about  the  House  the  girl 
was  herself  again. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  47 


CHAPTER    VI 

THE  library  windows  were  thrown  open  wide,  and 
Sir  Julian  Nevard  stood  with  his  back  to  one  of 
them,  his  ample  figure  showing  dark  and  impos- 
ing in  the  opening.  There  was  a  difference  of  opinion 
between  Sir  Julian  and  Lady  Betty.  Not  that  this  was 
in  any  way  an  unusual  state  of  affairs.  The  only  un- 
usual feature  was  the  persistency  with  which  Sir  Julian 
returned  to  the  attack. 

"  The  girl's  a  fool  where  that  scapegrace  is  con- 
cerned," he  said,  and  though  the  words  were  harsh,  the 
full  rich  tones  of  Sir  Julian's  voice  robbed  them  of  half 
their  ugliness. 

"Then  let  her  abide  by  her  folly,"  said  Lady  Betty. 
"  I'll  wager  she's  not  half  such  a  fool  as  you  give  her 
credit  for  being." 

"  The  boy's  never  been  any  good,  and  never  will  be," 
asserted  Sir  Julian. 

"  Little  you  know  what  he'll  be,"  returned  Lady  Betty. 
**  What  chance  has  he  had?  Time  enough  to  pass  judg- 
ment when  he  has  had  a  fair  show." 

*'  Fair  show !  Didn't  he  have  more  money  spent 
over  sending  him  to  Cambridge,  and  clearing  off  his 
debts  before  he  could  come  away  again,  and  then  start- 
ing him  afresh  in  London,  than  ever  has  fallen  to  the 
girl's  share?     And  what  did  he  make  of  it  all?  " 

"What  did  he  make?  As  handsome  a  young  fellow 
as  any  in  England.  What  more  would  you  have?  The 
lad  was  never  meant  to  be  a  molly-coddles." 

"  I  fear  me  he  was  never  meant  to  be  a  man,  or  if  he 
was,  there  was  some  mistake  in  the  making,"  said  Sir 


48  FREE    TO    SERVE 

Julian.  "  Handsome,  forsooth  !  He's  in  a  handsome 
case  now,  sure  enough." 

"  And  like  to  keep  there,  if  you  have  your  way," 
retorted  Lady  Betty. 

"  Yes,  and  so  he  may,"  said  Sir  Julian.  "  Who's  to 
look  after  the  girl's  interests  if  I  don't?  You  women 
are  all  alike.  Give  you  a  young  scamp  with  a  pretty 
face,  and  he  may  play  the  mischief  with  your  pockets 
and  your  hearts." 

"Take  your  own  way  then,"  said  Lady  Betty,  "  and 
see  what  thanks  you'll  get  either  from  the  one  or  the 
other.  I'll  warrant  you  Aveline  will  never  rest  with 
that  lad  behind  a  prison  gate," 

"  Scant  rest  she's  likely  to  have  any  way,"  growled 
Sir  Julian.  "  The  child's  life  is  bound  to  be  spoiled, 
look  at  it  from  which  side  you  will." 

"  Hoity-toity !  A  girl's  life  isn't  spoiled  so  easy. 
Ten  to  one  but  in  twelve  months'  time  she'll  be  glad  of 
the  change." 

Sir  Julian  shook  his  head. 

"  Nay,  your  wit  is  good  enough  as  a  rule,"  he  said, 
"  but  where  that  boy  is  concerned  your  heart  speaks 
louder  than  your  head.  'Tis  the  change  I  fear.  It  is 
too  violent.  And  the  child's  heart  is  not  in  it.  Truly, 
I  have  the  greatest  mind  to  put  my  foot  down  upon  the 
whole  affair.      I  could  lend  the  lad  a  little  —  " 

"  And  lose  your  money  for  your  pains,"  interrupted 
Lady  Betty.  "What  end  will  it  answer?  A  change 
of  surroundings  is  what  the  lad  needs.  Give  him  a 
new  start,  and  he  is  made.  Leave  him  here,  and  he 
is  undone." 

There  was  truth  in  Lady  Betty's  words.  So  far  as 
Fulke  was  concerned,  Sir  Julian  fully  approved  of  the 
plan  of  emigration.  But  it  was  another  thing  for  Ave- 
line. When  the  girl  first  came  to  him  with  her  propo- 
sition, he  flatly  refused  to  listen.      Give  up  her  home? 


FREE   TO    SERVE  49 

Sell  the  house  that  was  her  father's  provision  for  her 
future?  Not  while  he  was  her  guardian.  He  waxed 
hot  and  wroth  against  the  youth  who  had  dared  to 
put  such  an  idea  in  the  child's  head. 

Had  he  but  known  it,  his  wrath  had  done  more  than 
anything  else  to  confirm  Aveline  in  her  half-formed 
determination.  Her  home  was  very  dear  to  the  girl. 
It  seemed  almost  impossible  that  she  could  give  it  up. 
Even  when  she  promised  Fulke  to  think  over  his  prop- 
osition, and  talk  with  her  uncle  about  it,  she  could  not 
really  resolve  to  cut  herself  off  from  the  old  life.  The 
future,  too,  looked  dark.  But  when  she  broached  the 
matter  to  Sir  Julian,  and  met  his  uncompromising  de- 
nunciations of  her  brother,  she  gradually  shifted  her 
ground.  Fulke  had  not  been  far  wrong  in  saying 
there  was  no  hope  for  him  —  no  hope  but  in  her. 
And  was  she,  too,  to  fail  him?  In  Sir  Julian's  anger 
she  read  the  world's  judgment  against  the  offender, 
and  she  ranged  herself  on  his  side. 

The  young  man  had  displayed  considerable  discre- 
tion in  keeping  away  from  the  House  until  the  storm 
had  had  time  to  blow  over.  Of  Lady  Betty's  sympa- 
thy he  was  certain.  The  lad  had  always  been  a  fa- 
vourite with  that  sharp-voiced  lady,  and  she  thought 
it  only  proper  that  his  sister  should  sacrifice  her  inter- 
est in  his  behalf.  But  Sir  Julian  was  obdurate.  The 
greatest  concession  Aveline  could  win  from  him  was 
the  promise  that  he  would  talk  to  Fulke,  and  see 
whether  there  was  "  anything  beyond  foolery  in  the 
scheme."  For  the  rest,  she  was  obliged  to  wait.  Sir 
Julian  had  full  control  over  her  and  her  property,  and 
full  liberty  to  make  any  provision  that  might  seem  to 
him  to  be  for  her  benefit.  With  his  consent  the  house 
could  legally  be  sold  —  without  it  she  was  powerless. 

It  was  no  wonder  that  Fulke's  breath  came  a  trifle 
irregularly,  as,  a  little  later  in  the  day  on  which  Lady 


50  FREE   TO    SERVE 

Betty  and  Sir  Julian  had  so  amicably  discussed  his 
afifairs,  he  met  his  uncle  in  the  library  for  the  purpose 
of  unfolding  his  scheme.  Sir  Julian  looked  taller,  more 
ample,  and  more  imposing  than  usual.  There  was  x 
certain  stately  formality  about  him,  a  judicial  air,  that 
was  not  without  its  effect  on  the  young  man.  It  was 
not  easy  to  hold  on  to  illusions  in  that  presence.  Plain 
facts  looked  plainer  and  more  uncompromising.  It  was 
possible,  in  Sir  Julian's  deep  musical  voice,  to  designate 
actions  by  their  simple  unvarnished  titles  without  being 
brutal,  but  such  handling  of  them  was  not  pleasant  to 
the  listener. 

Fulke  had  not  found  it  a  particularly  easy  task  to  tell 
the  story  of  his  difficulties  to  his  sister.  To  unburden 
himself  to  Sir  Julian  was,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  no  easier. 
Certain  accommodating  reservations,  by  which,  in  the 
former  case,  he  had  saved  his  credit,  were  of  no  avail 
to-day.  There  was  an  uncomfortable  directness  about 
Sir  Julian's  questions,  and  an  uncompromising  candour 
about  his  method  of  summing  up  the  information  they 
brought  him.  Moreover,  he  insisted  upon  going  into 
the  subject  of  the  debts  before  he  touched  on  the  young 
man's  scheme  for  retrieving  them.  Not  that  Fulke  was 
prepared  with  anything  like  a  clear  statement  of  his  lia- 
bilities. It  had  been  too  long  his  aim  to  keep  himself 
in  ignorance  of  unpleasant  facts,  to  leave  it  possible  for 
him  to  give  his  uncle  all  the  particulars  he  demanded. 

But  if  Sir  Julian  did  not  succeed  in  getting  a  very 
clear  idea  of  the  extent  of  his  nephew's  indebtedness, 
he  managed  to  give  that  young  man  a  very  clear  idea 
of  how  his  follies  looked  in  the  light  of  their  inevit- 
able consequences.  By  the  time  he  was  free  to  lay  bare 
his  plans  for  the  future,  Fulke  found  himself  entirely 
lacking  in  that  hopefulness  of  heart  that  had  before  been 
of  so  much  assistance  to  him  in  setting  forth  the  advan- 
tages of  the  proposed  venture.     Nevertheless  he  did  his 


FREE   TO   SERVE  51 

best  to  convince  Sir  Julian  of  the  almost  certain  fortune 
that  awaited  him  in  the  Province  of  New  York,  whither 
he  desired  to  convey  himself,  and  all  that  was  left  of  the 
proceeds  of  his  sister's  inheritance  when  his  debts  were 
honourably  paid.  Every  penny  that  could  be  spared 
was  to  go  towards  purchasing  such  articles  as  would 
most  surely  tempt  the  native  taste,  for  it  was  as  a  trader 
among  the  Indians  that  Fulke  expected  to  reap  the  rich 
harvest  to  which  he  was  looking  forward. 

The  stranger  who  had  come  to  him  for  surgical  assist- 
ance was  but  lately  returned  from  that  province,  hav- 
ing come  to  England  for  the  purpose  of  taking  over  a 
large  assortment  of  goods  likely  to  prove  useful  in  the 
Indian  trade.  He  was  willing  to  give  Fulke  the  benefit 
of  his  experience,  and  to  admit  the  young  man  into  a 
fair  and  equal  partnership  with  himself.  There  were 
more  openings  than  he  could  take  advantage  of,  and 
he  was  desirous  of  associating  with  himself  a  young  and 
active  man. 

Sir  Julian  listened  critically.  Once  or  twice  he  nod- 
ded assent.  Fulke's  spirits  rose.  He  began  to  hope 
for  ultimate  success.  He  made  much  of  the  gain,  and 
touched  lightly  on  the  price  that  was  to  be  paid  for  it. 
In  the  midst  of  his  comfortable  anticipations.  Sir  Julian 
cut  him  short. 

"  You  had  better  go  down  to  Crowfields  for  a  few 
days,"  he  said,  "  and  leave  your  sister  to  think  the 
matter  over.     It  is  not  a  trifle  you  are  asking  of  her." 

"  I  am  little  likely  to  forget  that,  sir,"  said  the  young 
man.  "  Yet,  much  as  I  need  the  money,  I  would  not 
ask  her  to  do  it  were  it  not  for  her  benefit.  It  is  but 
a  pittance  at  best,  between  her  and  poverty,  —  the  rent 
of  my  father's  place.  When  she  might  change  it  for 
riches,  aye,  possibly  for  great  riches,  in  a  few  years,  it 
seems  but  sentimental  folly  to  refuse." 

Fulke  was  warming  with  his  subject. 


52  FREE   TO    SERVE 

"Exactly  so,"  said  Sir  Julian  drily;  "  especially  when 
your  sister  remembers  the  evident  proofs  of  thrift  and 
business  capacity  that  have  been  given  by  the  young 
man  who  is  to  accomplish  all  these  wonders.  Verily, 
none  but  a  sentimental  girl  would  hesitate  to  sell  her 
inheritance,  and  place  the  proceeds  in  the  hands  of  — 
well,  let  us  put  it  in  a  mild  form  —  of  one  who  has  shown 
so  little  wit,  or  so  little  care  for  the  consequences,  that 
his  own  share  of  wealth  —  and  it  is  as  well  to  remember 
that  this  was  by  far  the  larger  share  —  has  vanished  in 
thin  air.  Such  inexplicable  reluctance  is  only  worthy  of 
a  girl's  foolishness.  But  she's  a  girl  with  a  heart,  Fulke," 
said  the  older  man,  his  tone  changing  at  the  words,  and 
his  voice  taking  to  itself  a  gentle  ringing  clearness,  "  and 
it  would  have  to  be  a  big  sacrifice  she  would  not  be 
prepared  to  make  for  the  sake  of  a  certain  scapegrace 
brother,  who,  to  my  mind,  knows  little  of  the  treasure  he 
possesses  in  that  girl," 

For  a  moment  Fulke  drew  himself  up  proudly,  and  his 
eyes  flashed  as  he  met  those  others  which  were  regard- 
ing him  so  coolly.  Something  in  the  steadfastness  of 
the  gaze,  however,  made  his  eyelids  droop.  After  all, 
his  answer  was  a  humble  one. 

"  I  have  little  doubt  that  I  seem  to  you  both  a  rogue 
and  a  fool,"  he  said.     "  Possibly  I  deserve  the  judgment." 

"  You  will  be  all  you  say,  and  more,  if  you  take  lightly 
this  sacrifice  from  your  sister,  and  go  the  way  you  have 
been  walking  of  late,"  said  Sir  Julian  plainly.  "  Mind 
you,  I  make  no  promise  that  I  will  allow  her  thus  to  put 
her  future  in  your  hands.  But  should  she  do  so,  none 
but  an  arrant  coward  would  let  her  suffer  for  her  gener- 
osity." 

"By  what  right  do  you  infer  that  I  could  be  guilty  of 
the  meanness  you  describe?  "  asked  Fulke  hotly. 

"By  what  precedent  am  I  to  infer  that  you  will  not?  " 
demanded  Sir  Julian. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  53 

The  young  man  turned  away.  He  was  well  aware 
that  his  uncle  was  speaking  but  the  plain  truth,  but 
under  existing  circumstances  no  calumny  could  be  quite 
so  galling  as  this  same  unexaggerated  truth.  Fulke  had 
always  found  it  expedient  to  avoid  as  far  as  possible  com- 
ing to  close  quarters  with  Sir  Julian.  Yet,  in  his  heart, 
the  older  man  had  a  strong  desire  to  help  the  younger. 
Also  he  knew  that  the  idea  having  once  taken  possession 
of  Aveline's  mind,  she  would  never  rest  until  she  had 
found  some  way  of  helping  her  brother.  But  he  adhered 
to  his  determination  of  postponing  his  decision.  It  was 
only  fair  that  Aveline  should  have  time  to  weigh  the 
matter  well  before  she  consented  to  so  complete  a  change. 
His  nephew  would  be  comparatively  safe  at  Crowfields, 
a  small  shooting-lodge  belonging  to  Sir  Julian,  and  a 
little  solitary  reflection  would  be  no  bad  beginning  for  a 
new  career. 

So  to  Crowfields  Fulke  repaired,  while  Eady  Betty 
fumed,  and  Aveline's  face  wore  a  wistful  look  that  caused 
Sir  Julian  to  utter  many  an  exclamation,  not  quite  of 
the  nature  of  a  blessing,  in  which  the  name  of  his  young 
nephew  figured  conspicuously. 


54  FREE   TO   SERVE 


CHAPTER     VII 

THERE  was  no  sign  of  the  sun,  nor  would  be  for 
an  hour  and  more,  though  the  yellow  dawn  was 
trying  its  strength  with  the  starlight  in  about  an 
even  competition.  The  earliest  birds  were  not  yet  awake. 
The  Great  House  had  opened  one  eye,  for  a  maid  had 
just  unclosed  a  shutter,  and  let  in  a  puff  of  the  cool  morn- 
ing air.  Aveline  felt  its  breath  as  she  came  softly  down 
the  broad  stairs,  and  paused  a  moment  before  she  drew 
back  the  heavy  bolt  of  the  front  door.  She  took  a  long, 
deep  draught  of  it  as  she  stood  on  the  step  without,  and 
lifted  her  face  to  the  stars. 

"  It's  almost  the  last,"  she  said,  and  there  was  a  catch 
in  her  voice. 

Nobody  heard  her,  for  there  was  nobody  to  hear.  The 
Great  House  was  asleep,  all  but  the  solitary  maid  who 
had  risen  earlier  than  usual  to  meet  the  special  need  of 
the  day. 

Aveline  slowly  descended  the  steps,  and  went  by  a 
side  path  into  the  park.  There  was  nothing  uncertain 
about  her  movements,  though  the  light  was  very  faint. 
She  knew  every  step  in  the  dark  almost  as  well  as  in  the 
light.  When  she  came  out  into  the  open  road  the  dawn 
had  triumphed.  The  stars  were  put  out  of  countenance  ; 
they  shone  faint  and  weak,  as  became  the  vanquished. 
There  was  a  twitter  of  birds  now,  and  the  first  awakening 
of  life. 

Aveline  stood  still,  and  turned  her  face  to  the  growing 
light.  There  was  just  enough  of  it  to  show  the  outline 
of  a  house  standing  among  the  trees,  and  a  long  avenue 
from  the  big  gates.  It  was  the  last  time  she  would  see 
the  sun  rise  over  those  walls.     There  was  nobody  to  see 


FREE   TO    SERVE  55 

how  long  she  stood  looking  towards  the  house.  When 
she  moved  on,  her  step  was  more  hurried.  She  did  not 
turn  in  at  the  gates.  That  was  to  come  later.  Her 
destination  was  the  village,  and  the  particular  spot  in 
the  village  was  the  carpenter's  dwelling.  No  need  to 
question  whether  Joan  would  be  astir.  The  girl's  own 
heart  told  her  that  sleep  in  John  Arkwright's  home  had 
been  a  one-sided  affair  that  night. 

She  saw  the  smoke  from  the  chimney  before  she 
reached  the  cottage,  and  without  knocking  she  opened 
the  kitchen  door  and  stepped  inside.  Joan  was  there. 
Aveline  had  been  sure  she  would  be.  She  was  standing 
over  the  hearth,  raking  the  embers  together.  She  did 
not  turn  when  the  door  opened,  and  Aveline  stood  a 
moment  looking  at  the  strong,  reliable  figure,  that  figure 
which  had  formed  a  part  of  her  life  as  long  as  she  could 
remember. 

"Joan,"  she  said,  and  there  was  a  wistful  longing  in 
her  voice  that  overcame  Joan's  reluctance  to  expose  the 
tears  which  reflected  the  dancing  firelight. 

She  turned  and  held  out  her  arms.  They  closed 
about  the  girl,  shutting  her  in  and  holding  her  warmly. 

"  My  child,  my  little  girl !  I  can't  let  you  go,"  she 
said. 

She  heard  a  stifled  sob,  and  felt  a  tear  drop  on  her 
neck. 

"  It's  not  too  late,"  she  cried  eagerly.  "Think  better 
of  it,  deary.  Trust  Joan's  judgment.  I'm  older  than 
you,  child,  and  I  know  I'm  right  in  this." 

She  felt  the  lithe  form  in  her  arms  quiver  as  she 
spoke. 

"  Leave  it  all  to  me,"  she  continued.  "  I'll  tell  Sir 
Julian,  and  — " 

"No,  no,"  said  Aveline,  struggling  to  free  herself,  and 
lifting  her  face  from  Joan's  shoulder  to  speak  the  more 
emphatically.     "  I  did   not  mean   to  draw  back,  and   1 


56  FREE   TO    SERVE 

could  not  if  I  would-  I  am  going,  and  I  want  to  go. 
But  —  Joan  —  I  feel  as  if  I  could  not  bear  it.  It  seems 
like  leaving  Jiim  behind." 

Her  head  went  down  on  Joan's  shoulder  again. 

"  It's  all  a  mistake,  a  terrible  mistake,  and  the  master 
would  be  the  first  to  say  so,"  said  Joan  brokenly. 
"  Trust  me,  dear,  and  believe  what  I  say.  Did  I  ever 
tell  you  wrong?" 

Aveline  made  no  answer.  She  was  thinking  that 
to-morrow  those  strong  safe  arms  would  not  be  around 
her. 

"  Joan,"  she  said,  "  I  have  never  done  without  you 
for  one  day  all  my  life,  not  even  since  John  stole  you 
away." 

She  lifted  her  head  as  she  spoke.  For  a  moment 
Joan's  face  was  averted.  Then  the  strong  clasp  of  her 
arms  relaxed.     She  drew  back  a  step. 

"  Miss  Aveline,"  she  said,  "  it's  come  to  the  last 
chance.  I  haven't  wanted  to  say  anything  against  Mr. 
Fulke,  least  of  all  to  you.  But,  dear,  you  are  doing 
wrong  to  trust  him." 

"Joan!      How  dare  you?" 

Aveline  drew  herself  up  proudly.  Not  even  from 
Joan  could  she  bear  reproach  of  her  brother. 

"  Nay,  nay,  deary  !  Don't  take  it  so.  I  mean  no  dis- 
respect to  the  young  master.  But  he  is  no  great  safe- 
guard for  a  young  maid,  and  right  well  I  know  it." 

"You  are  unjust  to  him,"  said  Aveline  hotly. 

Joan  shook  her  head. 

"  Haven't  I  known  him,  as  little  lad  and  big  one,  for 
eighteen  years  and  more?  My  child,  he  means  to  be 
true.  Mr.  Fulke  never  meant  other.  But  between  what 
he  means  to  be,  and  what  he  is,  there's  all  the  difference 
in  the  world." 

"  You  do  him  wrong,"  said  Aveline.  "  He  is  tremen- 
dously in  earnest  over  this.     It  is  the  one  great  chance 


FREE   TO   SERVE  57 

of  his  life.  Surely  you  would  not  begrudge  it  to  him 
—  you  of  all  others." 

"  If  he  could  have  it  without  risking  your  happiness, 
I  would  say  never  a  word.  I'd  not  grudge  the  poor 
lad  another  chance,  even  though  the  money  went  the 
way  of  all  the  rest,"  said  Joan.  "  But  it's  risking  you, 
and  not  money." 

"  You  never  believed  in  him,"  said  Aveline  reproach- 
fully. 

"  Alack  !  He  stands  in  no  need  of  my  believing  in 
him.  He  believes  too  fully  in  himself,"  said  Joan,  and 
relapsed  into  silence. 

Aveline  stood  watching  her,  love  and  reproachful 
anger  struggling  together.  Suddenly  Joan  advanced, 
and  took  both  the  girl's  hands  between  her  own. 

"  Miss  Aveline,  let  it  all  go,"  she  said  pleadingly. 
"  Let  him  take  the  money,  poor  boy,  and  try  again. 
But  you  —  stay  here,  dear.  There's  Sir  Julian  loves 
you  so  well  that  his  face  has  grown  worried  and  old 
for  sorrow  at  your  going,  and  as  for  the  money,  while 
John  and  me's  got  health  to  earn  it,  you'll  not  know 
the  need  of  that." 

"  Joan,  Joan,  there's  nobody  like  you  in  all  the 
world,"  said  Aveline  brokenly.  "  What  shall  I  do 
without  you  to  love  me  and  scold  me?  But,  Joan, 
dear,  it  is  no  use.  Fulke  needs  me,  needs  me  as  surely 
as  he  needs  the  money.  Can't  you  see  what  an  in- 
centive it  will  be  to  him  to  succeed?  He  must  not 
fail,  he  caiuiot  fail,  for  if  he  did  he  would  drag  me 
down  too.  And  for  all  you  may  say,  you  bad  Joan, 
he  is  not  wicked  enough  for  that." 

Joan  sighed.  Her  last  hope  had  failed  her.  She 
knew  now  that  this  girl,  who  had  been  to  her  as  daugh- 
ter and  mistress  in  one,  would  surely  go  from  her  be- 
fore the  day  was  many  hours  older. 

The  fresh  wood  upon  the  fire  crackled  and  blazed  up 


58  FREE   TO    SERVE 

sharply,  the  daylight  without  brightened.  Once  John 
opened  the  door  into  the  kitchen,  but  he  shut  it  again 
with  such  haste  that  neither  Joan  nor  Aveline  saw  him. 
The  good  man  went  out  by  the  front  door,  and  crossed 
over  to  his  workshop  at  the  back  of  the  yard,  where 
the  pile  of  clean  white  boards  stood  awaiting  the  car- 
penter's plane.  Joan  had  forgotten  all  about  break- 
fast. She  had  no  thought  for  any  but  the  girl  who 
stood  with  quivering  face  trying  to  find  courage  to  say 
the  fatal  word  that  should  end  the  old  life.  Joan  would 
be  at  the  House  to  see  her  off  by  the  stage,  but  the  real 
good-by  must  be  said  now.  A  broad  beam  of  sun- 
light fell  across  the  brown  bands  of  Joan's  hair.  After- 
wards Aveline  always  saw  Joan  thus,  her  head  sun- 
brightened  as  it  was  that  morning  when  she  looked 
down  upon  it.  She  drew  her  forces  together  for  the 
inevitable  moment. 

"  Good-by,"  she  said.  "  Next  to  my  father,  you 
have  loved  me  best." 

When  Aveline  shut  the  door  behind  her,  and  stepped 
out  into  the  warm  May  sunshine,  she  left  Joan  standing 
by  the  hearth.  Just  there  the  carpenter  found  her  a 
good  while  later,  when  thoughts  of  breakfast  had  con- 
strained him  to  anticipate  the  summons  that  should 
have  come  from  the  house. 

"  Why,  Joan,  lass  !  Ain't  the  victuals  about  ready? " 
he  asked. 

She  made  him  no  answer.  He  went  up  to  her,  and 
laid  his  hand  on  her  shoulder. 

"  Cheer  up,  old  girl.  'Twould  have  had  to  come 
some  day,"  he  said.  "  Miss  Aveline's  too  handsome  a 
lass  to  be  left  for  the  likes  of  you  to  coddle.  You'd 
have  had  to  part  with  her,  sooner  or  later.  All  the 
lasses  have  got  to  go  out  of  the  good  wives'  care." 

"  Go,  yes  !  But  where?  Tell  me  that,"  broke  out 
Joan.     •*  Do  they  go  to  the  end  of  the  earth  with  no 


FREE    TO    SERVE  59 

better  protector  than  a  young  man  so  cock-sure  of 
himself  that  he'll  never  know  he's  falling  till  he's  down, 
and  has  dragged  that  child  down  with  him?  If  Miss 
Aveline  was  going  away  with  a  good  husband,  I'd 
have  never  a  word  to  say  against  it,  though  I  should 
not  see  her  face  till  she  was  a  woman  grown.  But  to 
let  her  go  thus  !  'Tis  rank  folly,  as  Sir  Julian  might 
know." 

That  he  did  not  know  was  not  Joan's  fault.  When 
she  first  heard  of  the  project,  Joan  went  to  headquarters. 
She  sought  Sir  Julian  himself. 

"  You'll  mayhap  think  me  but  a  meddler,  sir,"  she 
said,  "  but  she's  my  own  little  lass,  so  to  speak,  and  I 
can't  stand  by  and  see  her  sacrificed  without  putting  in 
my  word." 

"Nay,  nay,  good  Joan,"  said  Sir  Julian  pleasantly, 
"we  all  know  your  love  for  Miss  Aveline.  I  doubt  not 
you  will  feel  like  a  hen  robbed  of  her  chicks  when  the 
two  are  gone.     But  we  shall  all  miss  her  sorely." 

"Aye,  'twill  be  wearisome  enough  without  Miss  Ave- 
line," said  Joan.  "  But  it's  not  of  that  I'm  thinking. 
I'm  sore  troubled  for  the  child  herself.  Heaven  forbid 
I  should  say  aught  against  the  lad.  He's  mine  too,  as 
one  may  say,  for  he  was  but  a  little  bit  of  a  boy  when 
my  mistress  left  him  in  my  care.  But  I  daresn't  hold 
my  tongue,  though  it  does  seem  cruel  to  speak.  Sir 
Julian,  he's  a  nice  lad  and  a  pleasant,  but  did  you 
know  him  as  I  do,  you  would  not  put  this  responsibility 
on  his  shoulders." 

"  Ah,"  said  Sir  Julian,  "  you  do  not  see  that  this  is  the 
very  reason  we  mean  to  let  him  go.  'Tis  the  responsi- 
bility that  will  be  the  making  of  him.  For  the  lad  means 
well,  he  surely  means  well  this  time." 

"  I  doubt  not  that  he  means  well,  sir,  well  enough," 
said  Joan;  "but  between  what  Mr.  Fulke  means  to  do, 
and  what  he  does,  there's  a  gap  just  wide  enough  to 


6o  FREE   TO    SERVE 

swallow  up  the  one  that  puts  confidence  in  him.  Sir 
Julian,  he's  not  to  be  trusted  with  Miss  Aveline." 

"  Nay,  Joan,  but  these  are  hard  words,"  said  Sir  Julian 
gravely.     "  The  boy  has  scarcely  merited  them  of  you." 

"Woe's  me  that  I  have  to  say  them,  sir!  "  said  the 
woman.  "  'Tis  the  first  time  I've  ever  said  aught  against 
the  boy,  but  there's  Miss  Aveline's  future  at  stake,  and 
I  can't  hold  my  tongue." 

"You  are  hard  on  the  lad,"  said  Sir  Julian.  "You 
look  at  but  one  side  of  his  character.  He  is  very  sure 
of  himself.  I  trust  he  may  be  right,  and  you  wrong.  It 
may  be  that  you  do  not  quite  know  him." 

"  He  does  not  know  himself,"  said  Joan,  with  a  shake 
of  her  head.  "  'Twas  a  lesson  he  could  never  learn  when 
he  was  a  bit  of  a  child,  though  it  might  come  in  his  way 
a  dozen  times  a  day.  He'd  always  believe  in  himself  in 
spite  of  all  that  befell.     And  he's  the  same  lad  still." 

"Well,  well,  your  prophecy  is  but  a  doleful  one, 
but  it  is  well  known  that  Miss  Aveline  is  the  favoured 
chick,"  said  Sir  Julian.  "  As  for  the  arrangements, 
they  have  been  made,  and  Miss  Aveline  would  be  the 
first  to  scold  both  you  and  me  were  we  to  attempt  to 
unmake  them." 

And  Joan  had  been  forced  to  leave  it  so,  though  her 
judgment  condemned  the  whole  thing.  Sir  Julian,  hav- 
ing decided  in  his  nephew's  favour,  allowed  nothing  to 
hinder  him  from  giving  his  full  support  to  the  scheme. 
He  had  much  hope  that  the  added  responsibility  would 
prove  just  the  incentive  Fulke  needed.  Moreover, 
there  was  another  motive,  kept  well  in  the  background 
of  his  consciousness,  that  yet  had  its  influence  in  deter- 
mining the  result.  Sir  Julian  had  long  desired  to  pos- 
sess that  portion  of  the  ancestral  estate  which  had  fallen 
to  the  share  of  his  younger  brother.  Too  generous 
ever  to  betray  the  wish  while  his  brother  lived,  it  yet 
had  its  effect  upon  him  now,  and   inclined  him  to  look 


FREE   TO   SERVE  6i 

more  favourably  upon  his  nephew's  proposal.  He  gave 
so  handsome  a  price  for  the  house  and  grounds  that 
it  sent  Fulke  back  to  London  too  much  elated  to  see 
anything  but  hope  ahead  of  him.  That  was  a  month 
ago. 

The  morning  sun  mounted  high.  It  wanted  less  than 
an  hour  to  the  time  when  the  stage  was  due  at  Easten- 
holme.  Breakfast  had  long  been  waiting  at  the  Great 
House.  Sir  Julian  had  grown  anxious,  and  Lady  Betty 
wrathful,  but  Aveline  did  not  come. 

"  I  think  I  had  better  go  and  look  for  the  child.  I 
fear  she  has  lost  all  account  of  time,"  said  Sir  Julian,  at 
last. 

"  Bless  the  girl  !  She's  but  a  little  goose  at  best," 
replied  Lady  Betty.  "  'Tis  some  of  Joan's  nonsense 
keeping  her,  mark  my  words  if  it's  not." 

Sir  Julian  turned  towards  the  door. 

"  There,  you  may  save  yourself  the  trouble,"  said  Lady 
Betty.     "  Here  comes  the  foolish  maid  herself." 

Aveline  had  indeed  lost  count  of  time.  Kneeling  in 
her  father's  study,  with  her  head  buried  in  the  chair 
which  even  now  seemed  to  hold  in  itself  a  personality 
that  was  part  of  her  memory  of  him,  the  girl  put  aside 
the  restraints  wherewith  she  had  held  her  grief  in  check, 
and  allowed  the  rush  of  tenderness  and  sorrow  and  lone- 
liness to  pass  over  her.  It  seemed  to  her  that  all  the 
tangible  world  was  slipping  away  from  her.  There  was 
a  life,  undoubtedly,  that  lay  beyond  the  sea,  but  it  was 
unreal — shadowy.  She  was  turning  her  back  on  life, 
so  far  as  she  knew  it.  Through  and  through  her  thrilled 
the  thought  that  she  was  kneeling  in  that  spot,  surround- 
ing herself  with  the  home  atmosphere,  for  the  last  time. 
To-morrow —  no,  to-day  —  she  would  be  an  atom,  a  bit 
of  humanity  without  a  setting,  a  human  being  that  had 
no  definite  place  in  the  order  of  things.  Suppose  Joan 
was  right?     And  with  the  thought  of  Joan's  strong  shel- 


62  FREE   TO    SERVE 

tering  love,  an  overwhelming  longing  for  that  stronger 
and  more  tender  love  which  had  always  been  about  her 
like  an  atmosphere  came  to  the  girl. 

"  Father,  your  little  girl  is  afraid,"  she  whispered,  and 
heavy  sobs  shook  her. 

She  had  no  consciousness  of  time.  She  did  not  know 
that  the  sun  mounted  higher  and  higher,  and  that  the 
world  of  Eastenholme  had  long  ago  set  itself  to  its  morn- 
ing tasks.  It  was  a  very  little  thing  that  roused  her  at 
last  —  the  twitter  of  a  bird  close  to  the  window.  She 
lifted  her  head  and  saw  how  the  sun  streamed  in.  Then 
she  stood  up  with  a  dazed  expression  on  her  face.  She 
moved  a  step  away,  came  back,  and  touched  the  chair 
tenderly. 

"  Good-by,"  she  said,  and  turned  and  passed  out, 
walking  fast. 

"  Did  ever  anybody  see  the  like?  "  was  Lady  Betty's 
greeting,  before  ever  Sir  Julian  could  speak.  "  Your 
face  is  as  white  as  a  sheet,  and  you  are  shaking  like  a 
leaf.  Had  you  no  better  sense  than  to  go  traipsing 
abroad  these  hours,  when  you  should  have  been  prepar- 
ing for  your  journey  by  a  right  hearty  meal?  I  want 
no  hungry  maids  to  go  from  my  house." 

"  And  there  you  will  not  be  disappointed,"  said  Ave- 
line,  trying  to  smile.  "  There  is  but  small  danger  of 
hunger.  I  think  it  would  be  better  not  to  try  breakfast 
to-day,  because  then,  you  see,  there  would  be  no  last 
time  about  it."     Her  voice  faltered  a  little. 

"Stuff  and  nonsense!  "  said  Lady  Betty.  "Sit you 
down,  and  eat  your  breakfast.  As  for  last  times,  every 
meal  is  a  last  time  for  its  own  occasion.  Take  it  as  a 
beginning  instead  of  an  end.  That's  the  sensible  way 
to  look  at  life.  Each  end's  but  the  prelude  of  a  begin- 
ning." 

After  all,  Aveline  was  forced  to  make  a  pretence  of 
breakfast.     It  was  over  quickly.     Even  Lady  Betty  dis- 


FREE   TO   SERVE  63 

played  no  great  appetite.  There  was  some  relief  in 
getting  the  meal  over. 

"Aveline,  child,"  said  Sir  Julian,  laying  one  hand  on 
the  girl's  shoulder,  and  placing  the  other  under  her  chin, 
that  he  might  turn  her  face  up  to  his,  "  I  don't  like  to 
let  you  go.  I'm  afraid  I've  not  been  wise,  after  all.  If 
this  should  not  turn  out  for  the  best  —  " 

"  Fiddlesticks  !  "  interrupted  Lady  Betty.  "  A  nice 
start  you'd  give  the  child,  putting  such  fancies  into  her 
head.  Where  better  could  a  young  maid  be  than 
under  the  protection  of  her  own  brother,  and  what 
better  reward  could  she  have  than  seeing  his  life  grow 
into  usefulness  and  prosperity?" 

Sir  Julian  was  looking  into  the  eyes  that  were  swim- 
ming with  tears. 

"  Little  girl,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  that  was  low  and 
tender,  "  I  don't  mean  to  give  up  my  charge  altogether 
to  that  youngster.  You  belong  to  me  still,  mind  that, 
and  if  things  should  turn  out  wrong  instead  of  right, 
your  home  is  here." 

Aveline  looked  at  him  gratefully. 

**  There  it  is  again,"  said  Lady  Betty  contemptuously. 
"  Turn  out  wrong  !  What's  to  make  them  wrong,  un- 
less, indeed,  such  ill-omened  prophecies  bring  bad  luck 
with  them.  In  the  name  of  all  that's  sensible,  why 
shouldn't  the  boy  and  girl  prosper?  Aveline's  place 
is  by  her  brother's  side,  and  if  she's  half  a  girl  she'll 
stay  there." 

"Lady  Betty  is  right,"  said  Aveline  firmly.  "Fulke 
and  I  will  stand  by  our  decision,  and  by  one  another. 
But  —  it  is  good  to  hear  you  say  it,  uncle  dear." 

He  drew  her  into  his  arms. 

"  My  brother's  little  daughter,"  he  said,  "  never  forget 
that  this  is  your  place." 

He  felt  the  quiver  that  went  through  her,  and  he 
stooped  and  kissed  her  forehead. 


64  FREE   TO    SERVE 

"  I  will  never  forget,  Uncle  Julian,"  she  said,  "  but 
till  we  can  both  come  to  you  as  a  success,  we  will 
neither  of  us  come  at  all — for  Fulke's  sake." 

She  was  thinking  of  words  she  had  heard  her  uncle 
say.  He  had  not  meant  that  she  should  hear.  They 
were  intended  for  Fulke's  ears  alone,  and  were  framed 
accordingly.  It  was  on  the  day  upon  which  he  ac- 
quainted the  young  man  with  his  decision,  and  met 
his  unbounded  delight  and  enthusiasm. 

"  I  am  overjoyed  that  you  see  it  as  I  do,"  said  his 
nephew.  "  I  am  convinced  that  it  is  as  much  for  my 
sister's  good  as  for  my  own." 

"  I  trust  that  it  may  prove  so,"  replied  Sir  Julian 
gravely.  "  Did  I  not  think  you  would  watch  over  her 
interests  as  jealously  as  your  own,  I  would  give  a  very 
different  answer.  Mind  you,  I  place  her  in  your  charge, 
and  expect  of  you  that  you  will  fill  to  her  my  place. 
You  will  have  in  your  hands  all  that  she  possesses. 
Understand  that  the  step  you  take  is  a  final  one.  You 
are  in  no  way  to  consider  yourself  at  liberty  to  throw 
off  the  obligation,  and  return  your  sister  to  my  care. 
It  is  your  place  now  to  care  for  her  as  your  father 
would  have  done." 

A  slight  sound,  a  quickly  drawn  breath,  caused  Sir 
Julian  to  look  round.  Aveline  stood  within  the  door. 
As  he  turned  she  crossed  the  room  swiftly  to  her 
brother's  side. 

"  Uncle  Julian,"  she  said,  "  Fulke  and  I  will  stand  or 
fall  together.  We  will  neither  of  us  come  back  on  your 
hands." 

"Tut,  child!  "  said  Sir  Julian,  trying  not  to  appear 
disconcerted.  "  Haven't  you  wit  enough  to  see  that  the 
shirking  horse  needs  the  spur?  Go  you  to  Lady  Betty. 
Young  maids  know  naught  of  business,  and  business 
alone  is  my  pleasure  with  this  young  man  now." 

Aveline  had  done  as  she  was  bidden,  but  she  had  not 


FREE    TO    SERVE  65 

forgotten  either  her  uncle's  words  or  her  own.  Fulke's 
honour  was  at  stake,  and  to  Aveline  this  meant  that  her 
own  honour  was  equally  involved. 

Breakfast  over,  there  was  nothing  to  be  done  but  walk 
to  the  park  gates. 

Aveline's  possessions  had  been  sent  on  before,  so  that 
there  might  be  no  delay  in  getting  them  on  board  the 
vessel  that  was  almost  ready  to  sail.  Quite  a  little  crowd 
was  waiting  at  the  gates.  Not  a  few  of  the  servants  from 
the  Great  House  had  come  to  see  the  girl  off,  and  these 
had  been  joined  by  many  of  the  villagers,  for  Aveline 
had  grown  up  among  them  all,  and  they  gathered  round 
her  with  the  familiarity  of  old  friends. 

"  Come  now,  my  girl,  get  the  good-byes  over,  and 
the  tears  all  shed,"  said  Lady  Betty  briskly,  breaking  in 
on  the  leave-takings,  and  the  prognostications,  cheery 
and  cheerless.  "  Yonder's  a  cloud  of  dust  that  can  be 
due  to  naught  but  the  stage,  and  I've  no  mind  to  treat 
the  travellers  to  a  tragedy  scene  that'll  save  'em  the  ex- 
pense of  going  to  the  play  when  they  reach  the  city." 

She  herself  bestowed  upon  the  girl  a  vigorous  kiss. 

"There,  there,  be  a  brave  maid,  and  do  your  duty," 
she  said  kindly,  "and  I'll  warrant  that  you'll  be  none  the 
worse  for  the  change,  and  that  you'll  live  to  be  glad 
you've  taken  this  step.  You've  got  the  stuff  in  you  to 
make  a  woman,  I'll  say  that  for  you,  and  you're  going 
where  it'll  be  brought  out." 

"  Don't  forget  that  if  you  find  no  warm  nest  in  the  new 
life,  there's  a  safe  one  in  the  old,"  said  Sir  Julian. 

Joan  had  no  word  but  a  whispered  blessing.  Regard- 
less of  the  onlookers,  she  put  her  arms  tenderly  about 
the  girl  for  the  last  time.  Her  hps  were  the  last  to 
touch  Aveline's.  Then  the  girl  climbed  to  the  top  of 
the  stage-coach,  sat  up  very  straight  in  her  seat,  and 
waved  her  hand  to  the  group  by  the  gates.  The  driver 
cracked  his  whip,  the  horses  started,  and  the  journey  to 


66  FREE    TO    SERVE 

America  began.  Aveline  was  strangely  conscious  that 
she  belonged  to  the  old  life  no  more.  Even  now  it  was 
closing  up  about  the  place  she  had  occupied.  She 
leant  forward,  and  saw  the  home  group  beginning  to 
melt  away. 

They  had  seen  the  last  of  her — Aveline  Nevard. 
What  was  the  place  that  was  to  welcome  her?  As  they 
passed  the  old  home  Aveline  was  so  absorbed  in  looking 
that  she  started  when  a  gray-haired  benevolent-looking 
man  by  her  side  said  good-naturedly : 

"  Going  away  to  one  of  them  city  boarding  schools 
to  learn  all  the  latest  ways,  ain't  you,  my  dear?  " 

"No,  sir,"  she  said.  "  I'm  going  to  London  to  meet 
my  brother.  We  are  to  travel  together ;  "  and  between 
trying  to  answer  the  old  man's  questions,  and  not  miss 
a  bit  of  the  dear  home  scenery,  she  found  enough  to  do 
until  the  limits  of  old  associations  were  passed.  She 
had  not  time  to  think  a  great  deal  about  the  future,  for 
her  companion  found  so  much  to  tell  her  of  the  parts 
through  which  they  passed,  that  she  must  needs  give 
him  her  attention. 

"  Faith,  and  here  comes  my  Lady  Gravely  in  her  best 
coach,"  he  cried,  as  a  backward  glance  revealed  the  fact 
that  a  big  gayly  gilded  coach-and-six  was  turning  into  the 
highway.  "  Now  for  as  spirited  a  race  as  can  be  seen 
in  His  Majesty's  dominion,  for,  if  I'm  not  at  fault,  the 
footman  that's  running  before  her  to-day  is  John  Speedy 
himself.  The  fastest  knave  in  all  England,  my  dear. 
Watch  him  well,  for  if  he  let  us  keep  our  distance  ahead 
of  him,  I've  lost  my  mark." 

Every  head  was  turned  back  now  to  watch  the  runner, 
who,  in  coat  and  skirt  of  blue,  preceded  the  six  strong 
horses  that  drew  his  lady's  coach.  The  footman's  head 
was  raised.  He  threw  himself  into  better  shape.  Those 
backward-turned  heads  were  a  challenge  to  which  there 
could  be  but  one  answer  from  John  Speedy.     He  raised 


FREE   TO    SERVE  e-j 

his  long  stafif,  and  waved  its  silver-balled  end  towards 
the  driver  of  his  lady's  coach.  That  worthy  applied  the 
whip,  and  the  six  horses  stretched  themselves  for  the 
race. 

The  stage-driver  needed  no  urging  to  try  the  effect  of 
a  liberal  application  of  his  own  whip.  Up  the  hill  and 
down  again  dashed  the  stage-coach,  up  the  hill  and  down 
again  came  the  runner,  well  ahead  of  my  lady's  coach. 
The  passengers  shouted  and  waved  their  hands.  Two- 
legged  locomotion  was  gaining  on  four.  Slowly  the  dis- 
tance between  the  running  footman  and  the  stage 
lessened,  till  upon  the  brow  of  a  hill  the  runner  trium- 
phantly waved  his  staff  as  he  passed  the  leader,  and 
went  swinging  down  the  hill,  heading  the  procession. 

"  Well  done,  John  Speedy,"  shouted  Aveline's  gray- 
haired  neighbour.  "What  think  you  of  that,  my  dear? 
Right  well  he  merits  his  refreshment,"  he  added,  as,  the 
foot  of  the  hill  reached,  the  runner  halted,  unscrewed 
the  silver  ball  from  the  end  of  his  staff,  and  took  a  sip 
of  the  white  wine  it  contained. 

"  Another  hour  and  we  reach  the  city,"  said  Aveline's 
entertainer,  when  my  lady's  coach  had  given  up  the 
race,  and  the  stage-horses  had  resumed  their  usual 
steady  swing.  "  And  then,  I  doubt  not,  will  come  your 
brother's  greeting.  He  will  know  better  than  to  leave 
so  pretty  a  face  to  be  viewed  by  strange  eyes." 

"  I  trust  he  will  be  at  the  inn  to  meet  me,"  said  Ave- 
line.     "  He  was  warned  when  I  should  arrive." 

"  No  fear  but  he'll  be  there,  or  his  taste  must  be  of 
the  worst,"  was  the  answer. 

But  when  the  coach  drew  up  at  the  inn,  it  was  a 
serving-man  who  scanned  the  passengers  as  he  asked : 

"  Is  there  here  any  lady  by  name  of  Mistress  Aveline 
Nevard  ?  " 

"  Aye,  right  there,  in  full  sight  of  your  eyes,  and  I'll 
wager  before  a  week's  past  there'll  be  more  than  one 


68  FREE   TO    SERVE 

beau  that'll  be  willing  to  give  much  for  a  smile  from  her 
lips,"  said  the  driver. 

"  The  mistress  bade  me  lead  you  straight  in,"  said 
the  man,  helping  Aveline  to  the  ground. 

She  was  glad  to  escape  the  rough  but  kindly  flattery 
without,  and  follow  the  man  into  the  inn. 

"  My  brother?      Is  he  here?  "  she  asked. 

"Nay,  there's  no  one  here,  so  far  as  I  have  heard," 
said  the  man. 

He  pushed  open  a  door,  and  led  her  into  the  kitchen. 

"  'Tis  the  young  lady  herself,"  he  said. 

The  mistress  came  forward  hospitably. 

"  Come  right  in  and  sit  you  down  in  the  chimney- 
corner,"  she  said.  "  I've  a  good  room  ready  for  you, 
but  you'll  be  the  better  for  getting  your  blood  well 
warmed  after  your  long  ride.  It  is  chilly  these  evenings, 
though  we  are  well  past  May-day." 

Aveline  looked  round  anxiously.  "  Is  my  brother 
not  here?"  she  asked. 

"  Nay,  I  have  seen  nothing  of  him.  But  never  fear, 
my  dear.  He'll  be  here  before  long,  I  doubt  not.  Sit 
you  down  and  rest.  Supper's  well-nigh  ready,"  said  her 
hostess. 

Aveline  slowly  advanced  to  the  fire.  The  disappoint- 
ment of  not  meeting  her  brother  made  her  feel  doubly 
lonely.  Not  but  that  she  was  sure  of  welcome  and  safety. 
She  owed  her  reception  to  the  fact  that  the  mistress  of 
the  inn  was  own  cousin  to  Lady  Betty's  housekeeper,  and 
her  good  offices  had  been  bespoken  for  Aveline.  The 
kindly  woman  bustled  about,  intent  on  making  the  girl 
feel  at  home. 

"  Now  then,  Benny,  don't  sit  staring  at  the  young  lady," 
she  said,  giving  an  admonishing  tap  upon  the  head  of  a 
tiny  boy  of  three,  who  sat  on  a  stool  in  the  middle  of  the 
hearth,  and  gazed  at  the  stranger  with  wide,  unblinking 
eyes. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  69 

It  is  only  fair  to  admit  that  Aveline  returned  the  gaze. 
Those  grave  unchildish  eyes  disconcerted  her.  She  sat 
and  studied  the  child,  and  the  child  studied  her.  She 
watched  the  upward  curves  of  the  smoke  that  came  as 
gracefully  and  naturally  from  between  the  baby  lips  that 
held  the  pipe  as  if  the  smoker  had  been  a  sage  of  seventy. 
The  baby  puffed  at  the  pipe  and  stared  at  the  visitor, 
and  the  visitor  alternately  watched  the  smoke  and  the 
baby's  eyes.  In  a  short  time  the  pipe  was  empty,  and 
the  child  gravely  rose,  carried  his  stool  to  a  point  op- 
posite the  corner  of  the  mantel-shelf,  mounted  it  care- 
fully, and  reached  down  a  knife  and  a  rope  of  tobacco 
formed  into  a  roll.  With  the  skill  of  an  adept  he  pre- 
pared enough  to  fill  his  pipe,  pressed  it  firmly  down,  and 
lit  it  with  a  chip  stuck  into  the  glowing  fire.  There  was 
a  droll  gravity  about  the  whole  proceeding  that  brought 
a  smile  to  Aveline's  lips  in  spite  of  herself.  Her  hostess 
saw  the  smile. 

"He's  a  queer  one,  ain't  he?"  she  said  proudly, 
"  You  wouldn't  think  now  he  warn't  three  till  Midsum- 
mer-day. But,  bless  you,  there's  many  a  man  grown  that 
ain't  got  his  sense." 

"  How  did  he  learn  to  smoke?  "  asked  Aveline,  smil- 
ing still. 

"Blest  if  I  can  tell  you,  miss.  Seemed  to  come  nat- 
ural to  him.  My  man's  a  great  smoker,  and  that  boy 
ain't  never  content  if  he  can't  have  his  three  pipes  at  a 
time.  He'd  be  in  a  fine  takin'  if  I  was  to  stop  him. 
Bless  you,  he's  done  it  this  year  and  more.  Not  but 
what  there's  plenty  like  him  for  that,  but  they  don't 
set  and  smoke  as  grave  as  he  does,  bless  his  heart. 
There  ain't  many  like  Benny." 

Aveline's  last  glance  as  she  left  the  kitchen  was  at  the 
baby  smoker,  puffing  gravely  at  his  third  pipe  of  tobacco. 


70  FREE   TO   SERVE 


CHAPTER   VIII 

ANY  kitchen  stuffe,  have  you,  maids  !  " 
"  Buy   a  white   Hue,  a  Jack  line,   or  a  cloathe 
line  !  " 

"  Pretty  maids,  pretty  pins,  pretty  women  !  " 

The  London  street-cries  penetrated  to  the  room 
where  Aveline  lay  sleeping  beyond  her  usual  hour. 
She  started  up  bewildered.  Then,  as  the  sounds  from 
the  streets  became  clearer  in  her  ears,  she  began  to 
realize  that  the  new  life  had  begun,  and  to  be  aware 
that  she  felt  some  interest  in  it.  She  was  impelled  to 
hasten.  Possibly  Fulke  was  already  waiting  for  her 
below.  It  was  unduly  late  for  a  country  girl  to  be  in 
her  chamber.  But  when  she  found  her  way  down- 
stairs, the  young  man  was  not  there.  The  hearty 
tones  of  the  master  of  the  inn  greeted  her. 

"  A  good  morning  to  you,  miss,"  he  said.  "  If  I'm 
not  hugely  mistaken,  I  have  here  that  which  will  explain 
why  the  young  gentleman,  your  brother,  did  not  appear 
over  night.  Not  but  that  'tis  a  sore  shame  so  comely  a 
lass  should  have  lost  an  evening's  pleasure  right  in  the 
best  part  of  the  season,  when  the  beaux  and  the  great 
ladies  are  out  in  all  their  bravery.  But,  truth,  there 
may  be  a  good  reason  for  his  non-appearance,  as  this 
billet  should  tell." 

Aveline  stretched  out  her  hand  eagerly  for  the  letter, 
which  she  found  short  and  unsatisfactory.     It  read : 

"  My  Dear  Sister  :  I  trust  you  have  arrived  in  safety, 
and  are  ready  for  the  voyage.  I  desired  to  be  with  you 
last  night,  or  at  latest  to-day,  but  fate  was  against  me. 
I  would  gladly  have  come  to  you,  but  could  not.     I  have 


FREE   TO    SERVE  71 

encountered  many  hindrances  and  difficulties.  Every- 
thing is  behind,  and  the  ship  ready  to  sail,  I  am  dis- 
tracted with  many  cares.  Just  now  I  must  get  your 
effects  on  board.  The  ship  weighs  anchor  before  night, 
and  I  am  all  belated.  You  must  manage  to  come  to 
me,  like  a  sensible  girl.  Ask  the  good  woman  of  the 
inn  to  accompany  you,  as  I  doubt  not  she  will  be  will- 
ing to  do.  Give  her  the  paper  inclosed  herewith.  She 
will  then  know  where  to  bring  you.  I  shall  be  at  the 
river-side  at  an  hour  past  noon." 

That  was  all.  It  did  not  lessen  Aveline's  uneasiness^ 
but  it  made  the  next  step  plain. 

"There's  nothing  wrong,  is  there,  miss?"  asked  the 
mistress  curiously. 

"  I  am  not  sure,"  said  Aveline.  "  My  brother  speaks 
of  hindrances  that  have  kept  him  from  coming  to  me  as 
he  intended,  but  he  will  meet  me  by  the  river-side,  at  a 
place  he  designates,  and  he  bids  me  ask  you  to  accom- 
pany me  thither." 

"That  I  will,  right  willingly,"  said  the  good  woman. 
"  But  'tis  a  crying  shame  you  should  go  off  thus.  He 
might  at  least  have  allowed  you  a  sight  of  the  pleasures 
of  London  life  before  you  turned  your  back  on  them  for 
good.  I'll  wager  now  you've  never  so  much  as  seen  a 
play."  _ 

Aveline  shook  her  head. 

"  Ah,  I  thought  as  much.  It's  a  brave  sight,  surely, 
and  the  play-acting  is  not  the  whole  of  it.  To  my  mind, 
it's  as  good  as  the  play  itself  to  see  the  beaux  combing 
their  perukes  with  their  lovely  ivory  combs,  and  the 
ladies,  with  their  pretty  faces,  watching  the  graceful 
movements  of  the  lads.  Such  handsome  combs  and 
elegant  comb-cases  can  be  seen  nowhere  but  in  London. 
Of  course  there's  beaux  and  beaux.  There's  them  that 
can  comb  a  wig  as  gracefully  as  a  lady  can  use  her  fan, 
and  there's  others  that  can  never  get  the  go  of  it,  try  as. 


72  FREE   TO    SERVE 

they  will.  Well,  well,  if  you  must  go  aboard  ship  to-day, 
you  must.     But  it's  a  terrible  pity." 

The  good  woman  was  so  determined  that  Aveline 
should  at  least  see  some  of  the  streets  of  London,  that 
she  forbore  to  take  a  hackney  coach,  insisting  that  a 
country  girl  would  find  it  no  great  hardship  to  walk, 
especially  as  the  distance  was  not  great.  Aveline  her- 
self was  in  haste  to  meet  her  brother,  but  she  could  not 
stifle  a  little  girlish  curiosity  at  the  strange  sights  of  the 
city.  The  grandeur  of  it  all  impressed  her.  Here  the 
very  workmen  wore  wigs  and  cocked  hats.  She  smiled 
to  herself  as  she  tried  to  picture  worthy  John  Arkwright 
in  a  wig. 

"  There,  there  !  Look  where  you  step  !  "  cried  her 
companion,  as  the  girl  set  her  foot  on  a  loose  flagstone. 

The  warning  came  too  late.  A  jet  of  inky  mud  spurted 
from  beneath  the  stone,  and  Aveline  looked  with  dismay 
at  her  shoes. 

"  A  beau-trap  for  certain,  and  as  ugly  a  one  as  could 
be  made,"  said  the  mistress.  "  A  plague  on  the  chairmen 
for  their  meddlesome  antics  !  " 

Then,  as  Aveline  looked  at  her  inquiringly,  she 
laughed. 

"What?  You  have  never  heard  of  a  beau-trap? 
'Tis  a  device  of  those  rascals,  the  chairmen,  whereby 
they  may  get  even  with  the  beaux  that  are  a  bit  stingy. 
They  do  but  loosen  a  stone,  that  the  water  may  lodge 
beneath,  and  then  woe  to  the  silk  stockings  of  the  unwary 
beau  who,  to  save  the  price  of  a  sedan-chair,  attempts 
to  use  his  own  prettily  covered  legs.  Right  well  the 
trap  answers  when  there  comes  a  smart  shower,  such  as 
there  was  last  night." 

Arrived  at  the  water-side,  Aveline's  attention  was 
divided  between  looking  for  her  brother,  and  watching 
the  craft  that  passed  up  and  down  the  river.  Fulke  had 
not  yet  come,  and  there  was  plenty  of  time  to  see  the 


FREE   TO   SERVE  73 

river  traffic,  ajid  listen  to  the  rough  passages  at  arms 
between  the  ordinary  river  boatmen  and  the  watermen 
of  the  private  barges.  One  of  these  barges,  rowed  by- 
watermen  resplendent  in  livery,  was  manifestly  making 
for  the  steps  near  which  Aveline  stood.  She  was  watch- 
ing its  approach  with  interest  when  a  sound  caused  her 
to  turn,  and  she  saw  Fulke  coming  towards  the  river. 
He  had  not  yet  noticed  her,  being  engrossed  in  the 
attempt  to  induce  a  burly  porter  to  transport  safely  a 
big  box  he  carried  on  his  shoulder.  In  the  burden  Ave- 
line recognized  her  own  property.  A  sudden  fit  of 
homesick  longing  seized  her,  and  she  left  her  com- 
panion's side  and  ran  towards  her  brother,  holding  up 
her  face  with  the  innocent  expectation  of  a  kiss. 

"  Don't,  child  !  What  is  the  matter?  Can't  you  see 
that  everybody  is  staring  at  us?  " 

Aveline  drew  back  hastily,  and  a  wave  of  colour  rushed 
over  her  face.  Involuntarily  she  turned  her  head,  in 
time  to  see  the  boat  in  which  she  had  been  interested 
discharging  its  load.  True  enough  they  were  staring  — 
men  and  women  both.  The  undisguised  gaze  of  the 
ladies'  escort  might  easily  have  been  construed  into 
admiration,  for  he  would  have  been  a  strange  gallant  of 
the  period  who  could  have  helped  admiring  the  straight 
girlish  form,  and  the  face  —  half  averted — in  which 
glad  recognition  and  welcome  were  changing  into  the 
flush  of  wounded  affection  and  awakened  pride.  For 
the  ladies  themselves,  no  two  constructions  could  be 
put  upon  their  supercilious  smiles.  It  is  easy  to  crush 
a  possible  rival  with  a  show  of  contempt,  and  this  girl, 
in  dress  and  mien,  looked  as  if  she  might  yet  be  found 
claiming  a  share  of  attention  in  that  section  of  the  world 
wherein  their  own  pleasures  lay.  Scorn  is  a  weapon 
safe  to  handle,  and  effective  for  use  against  the  innocent. 

None  the  less,  however,  did  Aveline  imagine  that  she 
had  made  herself  ridiculous  in  the  eyes  of  these  worldly- 


74  FREE   TO    SERVE 

wise  inhabitants  of  the  metropolis.  She  dropped  back 
to  her  old  position,  feeling  very  young  and  inexperi- 
enced, and,  it  must  be  confessed,  decidedly  angry. 
Fulke  need  not  have  behaved  as  if  he  were  ashamed  of 
her.  People  were  not  in  the  habit  of  being  ashamed  of 
her.  Sir  Julian  was  always  proud  to  have  her  with  him, 
and  Lady  Betty  —  Lady  Betty  who  knew  what  society 
was  quite  as  well  as  did  Fulke  himself — had  said  that 
she  had  "  manners  pretty  enough  for  any  young  gentle- 
woman." And  Fulke  had  treated  her  as  if  she  were 
nothing  but  an  ill-bred  hoiden,  to  be  rebuked  and  re- 
strained. Underneath  the  mortification  was  the  sore 
feeling  that  this  brother  of  hers  did  not  appreciate  as  he 
should  the  sacrifice  she  had  made  for  him.  Fulke  had 
left  Eastenholme  overjoyed,  making  much  of  her,  and 
predicting  all  manner  of  happiness  and  good  for  the 
future  as  the  result  of  the  sacrifice  she  had  made.  Now 
he  seemed  to  have  forgotten  that  it  had  been  a  sacrifice 
at  all. 

There  is  possibly  less  real  pain  in  giving  up  the  desire 
of  the  heart  than  in  the  apparently  trifling  added  bitter- 
ness of  seeing  the  good  appropriated  by  another  with 
no  expression  of  appreciation. 

Fulke  had  passed  the  two  and  gone  to  the  water's 
edge,  where  he  carefully  superintended  the  placing  of 
the  box  in  a  waiting  boat.  Then  he  returned  to  his 
sister. 

"  You  are  earlier  than  I  expected,"  he  said,  with  an 
effort  to  be  unconstrained.     "  You  received  my  letter?  " 

"  Yes.     I  thought  you  might  have  come  yourself" 

The  tone  was  decidedly  aggrieved. 

"  I  have  little  doubt  you  did,"  said  Fulke.  "  And  you 
thought,  mayhap,  that  to  reach  the  colonies  of  America 
there  was  naught  to  do  but  look  after  your  pleasure. 
For  my  part,  I  am  spent  with  anxiety  and  discourage- 
ment.    I  wish  I  had  never  entered  upon  the  business." 


FREE   TO    SERVE  75 

From  the  bottom  of  his  heart  Fulke  at  that  moment 
meant  what  he  said.  AveHne  looked  at  him  dismayed. 
She  would  have  spoken,  but  he  stopped  her.  There  was 
a  change  in  his  tone. 

"  Have  you  paid  this  good  woman?  "  he  asked. 

Aveline  noticed  the  anxiety  in  his  face,  that  lessened 
as  she  answered : 

"All  but  the  thanks  I  owe  her  for  taking  such  good 
care  of  me  in  your  absence." 

"  Then  it  will  be  unnecessary  to  keep  her  here  longer," 
said  Fulke,  and  the  mistress  of  the  inn  felt  herself  dis- 
missed. Sheturned  her  head  more  than  once,  to  see 
the  brother  and  sister  standing  near  the  steps. 

"  I  doubt  me  the  poor  lass  is  not  going  to  as  bright 
a  life  as  her  pretty  face  deserves,"  she  said. 

When  the  woman  was  out  of  sight,  Fulke  hurried 
Aveline  towards  the  boat. 

"  There  is  but  another  chest  to  be  put  aboard  now," 
he  said.  "  The  ship  weighs  anchor  before  sunset,  and 
there  will  be  plenty  to  be  done  getting  things  stowed 
away." 

His  eyes  wandered  from  the  boat  to  the  river  as  he 
spoke,  never  once  resting  on  his  sister's  face. 

"Make  way  there!  " 

The  porter,  returning  with  his  second  box,  rudely 
pushed  Aveline  aside,  and  trudged  down  the  steep  steps. 

"  All  ready  now,  young  mistress,"  called  one  of  the 
boatmen,  and  Fulke  extended  his  hand  to  help  his  sister. 
He  felt  that  hers  was  cold  and  still. 

A  few  minutes  later  Aveline  found  herself  a  part  of 
the  river  scene,  and  almost  forgot  her  grievance  in  wonder 
at  the  torrent  of  abuse  and  insulting  comment  which  the 
passage  of  the  small  craft  brought  down  upon  them. 
The  chief  business  of  each  waterman  seemed  to  be  that 
of  annoying  other  watermen  and  their  passengers.  Ave- 
line was  not  sorry  when  the  dark  hull  of  the  vessel  for 


76  FREE    TO    SERVE 

which  they  w^ere  making  overshadowed  them.  She 
cHmbed  upon  deck  and  looked  curiously  around  her. 
Just  at  this  moment  curiosity  overpowered  every  other 
feeling.  She  wanted  to  stand  and  view  the  vessel  from 
stem  to  stern,  —  not  a  very  great  proceeding  in  a  ship 
of  four  hundred  tons  burden,  —  but  again  Fulke  hurried 
her  on.  He  saw  the  ship-master  approaching,  and  Ave- 
line  thought  he  was  about  to  lead  her  towards  him.  She 
took  a  step  forward. 

"  Not  there  !  This  is  the  way  to  go  below,"  said  Fulke, 
and  he  held  out  his  hand  to  assist  her. 

"But  I  don't  want  to  go  below,"  she  replied.  "  I  want 
to  see  what  the  ship  is  like." 

"You  don't  know  what  is  good  for  you,"  said  her 
brother  sharply.     "  Believe  me,  you  had  better  —  " 

But  the  captain  was  alongside. 

**  So,  young  sir,  you  have  got  aboard,"  he  said,  in 
a  tone  that  was  too  free  for  politeness.  "  Is  this  the 
wench?  " 

He  looked  at  Aveline  in  a  way  that  brought  the  hot 
colour  to  her  cheeks. 

"  You  are  right.  I  will  go  below,"  she  said,  turning 
her  back  on  the  offending  ship- master. 

"This  is  my  sister,"  answered  the  young  man  coldly, 
and  the  two  passed  on,  but  not  before  Aveline  had  heard 
the  comment : 

"  That's  a  pretty  go  !  Hang  me,  \i  she  II  find  humble 
pie  much  to  her  taste." 

They  went  down  into  the  big  cabin.  Just  then  it  was 
deserted.     Aveline  turned  upon  her  brother. 

"What  did  he  mean  by  speaking  thus?"  she  de- 
manded. 

"He's  a  brute,"  said  Fulke  savagely.  "You  should 
have  come  down  when  I  told  you.  You  must  let  me 
judge  for  you  now.  Have  as  little  to  do  with  him  as  pos- 
sible, and  take  no  notice  of  anything  he  says.   Whatever 


FREE   TO    SERVE  ^]^ 

you  do,  don't  let  him  provoke  you  into  talking  with 
him.     You  will  do  as  I  tell  you,  won't  you?" 

He  was  looking  at  her  now  pleadingly  —  Aveline 
thought,  fearfully.  A  sudden  terror  took  possession 
of  her. 

"  Fulke,"  she  said,  "  has  he  any  reason  for  behaving 
so?     He  has  no  claim  on  you?" 

"  Claim?  "  said  Fulke.  "  What  claim  could  he  have? 
He  will  have  every  penny  for  what  he  carries  over,  trust 
him  for  that.  But  I  have  had  trouble.  I  told  you  so. 
And  there  have  been  difficulties  with  him." 

Then  two  or  three  passengers  entered,  and  Fulke 
hurried  his  sister  to  the  little  cabin  that,  even  now, 
she  was  beginning  to  find  a  refuge. 

"  Stay  here  awhile,"  he  said.  "  I  must  see  about  the 
stowing  away  of  the  things.  You  would  only  meet  with 
rudeness  just  at  present,  in  the  confusion  of  starting. 
Later  on  it  will  be  different." 

Aveline  shut  and  fastened  the  door,  and  then  forgot 
to  take  stock  of  her  surroundings.  This  was  such  a 
different  beginning  from  the  one  she  had  expected. 
She  was  oppressed  with  a  feeling  of  danger  somewhere 
—  just  where  she  could  not  tell,  only  she  associated  it 
with  the  captain's  strange  greeting.  She  did  not  under- 
stand her  brother,  and  there  was  at  present  no  oppor- 
tunity for  explanation.  She  could  not  tell  whether  his 
irritable  manner  betokened  real  calamity,  or  only  some 
temporary  difficulty.  On  one  point  she  was  determined. 
Having  cast  in  her  lot  with  Fulke,  she  would  abide  by 
the  consequences.     Turn  back  she  could  not. 

She  had  plenty  of  time  to  think,  for  Fulke  seemed 
to  have  forgotten  all  about  her.  She  could  hear  the 
loud  voice  of  the  captain  giving  orders,  and  the  rhyth- 
mical shout  of  the  sailors  as  they  hauled  in  ropes.  It 
was  all  life  and  bustle  above  her  head.  Below  there 
was  no  sound  to  be  heard.     The  sun  was  getting  low; 


78  FREE    TO    SERVE 

so  much  Aveline  could  see  through  the  tiny  porthole 
of  her  cabin.  She  fell  to  thinking  of  Joan,  and  the 
quiet  evening  hour  when  her  father  used  to  put  his 
arm  in  hers  and  go  out  to  watch  the  sunset.  And 
then  she  felt  a  tear  drop  on  her  hand,  and  sprang  up 
in  alarm. 

"  This  will  not  do,"  she  said,  and  began  to  examine 
the  small  cabin,  and  even  to  peer  out  upon  the  river. 
There  was  not  much  to  be  seen  in  so  narrow  a  field  of 
view,  and  she  sat  down  again  and  listened.  The  com- 
motion on  deck  was  increasing.  Aveline  felt  sure  the 
ship  was  about  to  sail.  She  cautiously  opened  her  door 
and  looked  out.  There  was  no  sign  of  life  in  this  part 
of  the  vessel,  which  seemed  doubly  lonely  by  reason  of 
the  noise  and  bustle  above. 

The  stillness  had  grown  intolerable,  and  in  desperation 
Aveline  made  her  way  on  deck,  coming  up  into  the  sun- 
light with  a  sensation  of  relief.  Sailors  were  flinging 
down  coils  of  rope,  and  making  ready  for  sailing.  The 
passengers,  some  twelve  in  number,  stood  about  the 
deck,  watching  proceedings,  and  getting  very  much  in 
the  way  of  the  seamen.  The  ship's  cow,  in  a  strong 
but  rudely  constructed  shelter  amidships,  looked  lazily 
out  on  the  scene,  possibly  lamenting  the  necessity  of 
changing  her  short  season  of  freedom  on  the  green 
stretches  along  shore  for  her  old  quarters  and  rations 
on  the  ship's  deck.  On  the  other  side  of  the  vessel, 
their  backs  towards  her,  stood  Fulke  and  the  ship-mas- 
ter. They  were  looking  out  across  the  water,  and  talk- 
ing so  earnestly  that  they  had  apparently  forgotten 
they  were  not  alone.  Aveline  could  not  see  her  broth- 
er's face,  but  by  his  attitude  and  gestures  she  knew 
that  he  was  urging  something  upon  his  companion. 
She  stood  and  watched  them,  wondering  and  anxious. 

"  Stand  aside  there,  young  mistress,  if  you  would  not 
be  caught  by  yon  rope,"  called  a  sailor,  and  a  coil  of 


FREE    TO    SERVE  79 

rope  fell  at  the  girl's  feet.  She  moved  to  the  middle  of 
the  deck,  standing  on  a  line  with  Fulke  and  the  captain. 
The  conversation  was  becoming  more  animated.  Pres- 
ently the  ship-master's  voice  rose, 

"What  care  I  who  she  is?"  he  said.  "  A  bargain's  a 
bargain,  as  I  take  it.  Yes,  and  I'll  see  it's  carried  out. 
Mind  that,  young  man." 

It  was  not  Aveline's  fault  that  the  words  reached  her 
ear.  The  tone  was  too  loud  for  secrecy.  Of  whom  was 
the  captain  speaking?  She  forgot  everything  else  in 
watching  the  two.  She  saw  her  brother  lay  his  hand 
on  the  captain's  arm.  He  half  turned  as  he  did  so,  and 
there  was  perplexity  and  something  resembling  fear  in 
his  face.  She  could  not  hear  his  answer,  but  gradually 
the  ship-master  cooled  down.  The  murmur  of  voices 
sounded  more  conciliatory,  and  Fulke's  manner  became 
less  agitated. 

"  Well,  well,  let  it  rest  awhile,"  said  the  ship-master 
loudly,  and  he  turned  straight  about  as  he  spoke.  They 
both  saw  her  at  once. 

"  My  stars  !  There  she  is,"  said  the  ship-master,  and 
for  the  moment  neither  he  nor  Fulke  seemed  to  know 
what  to  do  next.  The  captain  recovered  first,  and  ad- 
vanced to  meet  her.  "  Glad  to  see  you  on  deck,  young 
mistress,"  he  said  civilly.  "  Better  take  your  last  look 
at  London  sights.  We  are  going  to  run  out  a  bit  fur- 
ther before  dark." 

"  You  have  grown  tired  of  waiting,  and  no  wonder," 
said  Fulke,  coming  to  her  side.  "  I  have  been  unduly 
long,  but  I  had  much  to  attend  to,  and  many  things  to 
settle  with  the  captain." 

His  ill-humour  seemed  to  have  vanished,  and  he 
stayed  by  Aveline,  making  much  of  her,  and  pointing 
out  such  buildings  of  the  city  as  could  be  seen  in  the 
distance. 

'*  We  are  to  run  down  further  before  dark,  so  as  to  be 


8o  FREE   TO    SERVE 

ready  to  sail  in  the  morning,"  he  said.  "  You  will  have 
one  quiet  night  close  along  shore,  and  to-morrow, 
before  you  are  astir,  we  shall  begin  our  journey  in 
earnest." 

"  And  it  is  to  lead  to  good  things  for  us,  you  and  me 
together?"  asked  the  girl,  with  an  undertone  of  uncer- 
tainty in  the  words. 

Her  brother  turned  his  head  away.  He  felt  that  she 
was  trying  to  look  into  his  eyes. 

"You  are  a  little  goose,"  he  said,  but  his  arm  stole 
round  her,  and  they  stood  thus  watching  the  sun  as  it 
dipped  behind  the  trees. 


FREE    TO    SERVE  8i 


CHAPTER    IX 

ANY  one  who  had  known  the  Fulke  of  London 
days,  the  young  beau,  and  the  companion  of  some 
of  the  most  reckless  youths  about  town,  would 
have  been  struck  by  the  change  in  him,  perceptible 
enough,  yet  hardly  to  be  described.  Aveline  felt  it,  and 
failed  to  understand  it.  To  Fulke  himself  it  seemed 
that  a  great  gulf  lay  between  the  youth  of  a  month 
before  and  the  young  man  who  stood  on  the  outward- 
bound  vessel,  and  took  his  last  look  at  the  city  he 
accused  of  treating  him  ill.  The  weeks  that  had  inter- 
vened since  he  left  Eastenholme  had  shown  him  a  little 
more  than  he  had  expected  to  know  of  the  shady  side 
of  life.  For,  in  spite  of  Molly's  good  offices,  Fulke  had 
seen  the  inside  of  a  debtor's  prison. 

He  returned  to  London  with  Aveline's  fortune  in  his 
possession,  and  hope  enough  in  his  heart  to  freight 
a  fair-sized  vessel.  His  prospective  partner,  Roger 
Bennet,  was  found  at  Lloyd's  coffee-house,  and  the  two 
at  once  entered  into  arrangements.  Fulke  paid  the 
debt  which  had  proved  threatening,  and  after  estimating 
as  closely  as  possible  his  further  liabilities,  and  putting 
aside  enough  to  pay  his  own  and  Aveline's  passage,  and 
leave  him  something  in  hand  when  he  reached  the  new 
world,  he  expended  the  rest  in  Indian  stores,  buying 
under  the  personal  direction  of  Roger  Bennet.  The 
trader  was  in  haste  to  return  to  America,  and  when  he 
had  himself  spent  much  more  money  than  Fulke  had 
at  his  disposal,  he  left  the  young  man  to  superintend 
the  stowing  of  the  cargo  on  board  the  "  Bullfinch,"  the 
vessel  upon  which  Fulke  was  to  sail.     For  himself,  he 


82  FREE    TO    SERVE 

had  an  opportunity  to  start  earlier,  and  he  satisfied  him- 
self with  seeing  the  master  of  the  "  Bullfinch,"  who  was 
an  old  acquaintance,  and  instructing  him  to  look  after 
this  joint  stock  of  merchandise,  and  to  land  it  safely  at 
the  American  port. 

All  went  well  until  Bennet  left  London,  and  then  the 
tide  turned.  Fulke  had  not  overestimated  Wyville's 
animosity,  but  he  had  underestimated  the  far-reaching 
eft'ect  of  his  cunning.  Every  step  which  the  young  man 
had  taken  had  been  carefully  watched  by  Wyville's 
emissaries,  who  knew  the  exact  amount  of  money  he 
had  spent,  and  where  it  had  all  gone.  It  was  Wyville's 
aim  not  to  alarm  his  victim  until  the  right  moment,  and 
he  was  careful  at  first  to  present  no  claim,  and  to  put 
no  obstacle  in  the  young  man's  way.  It  was  not  until 
he  judged  that  his  former  companion's  resources  were 
nearly  exhausted  that  he  took  steps  to  recover  the 
amount  owing  to  him.  He  made  it  so  much  more  than 
Fulke  had  estimated  that  the  debtor  looked  at  the  claim 
with  horrified  surprise.  To  pay  it  would  be  to  leave 
himself  almost  penniless. 

Fulke  was  sure  the  amount  was  over-large,  and  he 
made  the  unfortunate  mistake  of  disputing  it.  This  ran 
the  expenses  up  considerably,  and  when  judgment  went 
against  him  he  had  to  choose  between  a  debtor's  prison 
and  the  giving  up  of  the  money  that  was  to  have  paid 
for  the  journey  to  America.  He  chose  the  prison,  hop- 
ing that  the  largeness  of  the  sum  at  stake  would  bring 
Wyville  to  terms. 

Again  he  found  that  he  was  wrong  in  his  reckoning. 
Money  was  a  small  consideration  to  Wyville  by  the  side 
of  this  opportunity  to  be  revenged  on  the  youth  who 
had  dared  to  oppose  his  will.  To  every  offer  of  com- 
promise he  returned  the  same  answer  —  he  could  afford 
to  wait  for  his  money,  and  although  the  amount  of  his 
claim,  to  less  than  a  penny,  should  be  forthcoming,  yet 


FREE    TO    SERVE  83 

for  the  shortage  of  a  single  farthing  he  would  leave  the 
debtor  to  his  fate  for  an  indefinite  period. 

It  did  not  take  long  for  Fulke  to  grow  desperate.  In 
ten  days  the  "  Bullfinch  "  was  to  sail.  The  greater  part  of 
the  cargo  was  on  board.  For  reasons  connected  with 
the  trade  laws  of  the  Province  of  New  York,  the  con- 
signment had  been  made  in  the  joint  name  of  his  part- 
ner and  himself.  He  had  no  power  to  remove  any  of 
the  goods.  Go  to  America  when  the  "  Bullfinch  "  sailed 
they  must  and  would,  and  when  there  they  would  be  lost 
to  him.  Aveline's  fortune  was  in  that  cargo,  the  loss  of 
which  would  leave  his  sister  destitute,  and  put  him  in  the 
position  of  a  thief.  To  remain  in  prison  was  to  lose  all ; 
to  pay  this  debt  was  to  leave  himself  helpless.  As  far  as 
reaching  America  was  concerned,  he  might  as  well  be 
inside  the  prison  walls  as  outside.  He  might  have  ap- 
pealed to  Sir  Julian,  but  this  he  could  not  bring  himself 
to  do  while  the  memory  of  his  uncle's  parting  words 
was  fresh. 

Every  day  that  he  hesitated  brought  fresh  expenses. 
If  this  went  on  much  longer  he  would  not  have  enough 
money  left  to  secure  his  release,  and  Aveline's  sacrifice 
would  be  altogether  in  vain.  He  grew  desperate,  going 
the  round  of  possibilities,  which  all  seemed  equally  im- 
possible. 

At  last  desperation  forced  him  into  action.  He  deter- 
mined to  end  the  struggle  somehow.  He  swallowed  his 
pride  and  wrote  an  earnest  appeal  to  Wyville.  He 
apologized  for  his  hasty  interference.  He  even  conde- 
scended to  explain  how  matters  stood  with  him,  and  to 
beg,  for  his  sister's  sake,  that  his  former  friend  would 
agree  to  take  part  of  the  money  at  once,  and  leave  the 
rest  till  he  could  send  it  to  him  from  America.  The 
young  man  persuaded  himself  that  Wyville's  anger  must 
surely  be  appeased  by  so  humble  an  appeal.  He  refused 
to  take  into  account  the  implacable  hatred  that  had  fol- 


$4  FREE   TO    SERVE 

lowed  him  thus  far.  It  would  be  different  now  that 
Wyville's  pride  had  received  the  healing  balm  of  such 
abject  apology. 

But  when  he  had  dispatched  the  missive  by  the  hand 
of  a  special  messenger,  he  began  to  lose  his  grip  of 
the  hope  which  had  led  him  on.  He  tried  to  sit  still 
and  wait  for  the  answer,  but  the  impatience  within  him 
drove  him  to  pace  up  and  down,  a  helpless  victim  of 
his  own  eagerness  and  fears.  He  found  himself  at 
one  moment  watching  for  the  return  of  the  messenger, 
and  the  next  cursing  his  own  folly  in  ever  supposing 
that  Wyville  could  be  won  by  an  appeal  to  his  com- 
passion. 

There  had  been  more  than  sufficient  time  for  the 
answer  to  reach  him,  and  still  the  messenger  did  not 
appear.  Fulke  kept  a  sharp  lookout  for  his  approach, 
but  the  hours  went  by,  marked  only  by  the  sinking  of 
heart  that  came  with  each  additional  one.  He  would 
have  given  much,  now  that  it  was  too  late,  to  have  had 
the  letter  back  in  his  possession.  His  face  grew  hot  and 
damp  as  he  imagined  that  epistle  handed  round  in  the 
circle  of  which  he  had  often  been  a  member,  and  allowed 
fancy  to  supply  the  shouts  and  guffaws  over  the  more 
touching  paragraphs. 

He  was  ready  for  any  bad  news  when,  at  last,  the 
messenger  came.  It  was  significant  that  he  carried  no 
letter,  nor  scrap  of  paper  of  any  kind. 

"  What !  Have  you  brought  me  no  answer?  "  asked 
the  young  man,  struggling  hard  to  keep  the  ring  of 
anxiety  out  of  his  voice,  and  speaking  gruffly  that  he 
might  at  least  hide  the  terrible  pressure  of  his  need. 

"  Not  I,"  said  the  man,  with  a  chuckle  of  amusement 
at  the  remembrance  of  his  experiences.  "  None  but  a 
fool  would  have  expected  answer  from  him.  Not  but 
that  he  was  long  enough  in  dallying  with  his  message ; 
though,  for  the  matter  of  that,  I  cared  not  how  long, 


FREE   TO    SERVE  85 

since  I  was  to  be  paid  for  my  time,  and  there  was  fun 
enough  to  be  had." 

"What  kept  you  then,  fellow?"  demanded  Fulke, 
though  he  had  scarce  heart  enough  to  keep  up  the 
appearance  of  boldness. 

"What  kept  me?"  answered  the  man  insolently. 
"  What  but  the  will  of  young  Mr.  Wyville  himself  ?  He 
had  me  up  in  his  room  as  civil  as  you  please,  and  there 
was  a  round  half-dozen  of  his  stamp  a-drinkin' chocolate 
there,  and  if  that  letter  didn't  give  'em  sport,  I've  lost 
my  mark.  There  warn't  one  o'  the  bunch  as  hadn't  to 
see  it  with  his  own  eyes,  and  when  they'd  all  had  a  turn, 
one  of  'em  read  it  out  loud,  and  struck  a  attitude  as  if 
he  was  prayin'  for  mercy,  and  they  all  roared  like  a 
good  un.  Blest  if  I  could  help  laughin'  myself.  Make 
a  corpse  laugh,  that  letter  would,  when  one  o'  them 
beaux  read  it." 

The  hot  blood  dyed  Fulke's  face,  and  then  receded, 
and  left  it  white  and  drawn. 

"  Stop  that,  you  scoundrel,  and  tell  me  what  Wyville 
said,"  he  cried,  in  a  voice  hoarse  with  passion. 

"  What  he  said  ?  Why,  he  swore  a  great  oath  that  he 
was  well  satisfied  with  what  he'd  done  for  a  beginnin', 
and  that  the  end  should  be  worthy  of  the  start,  and  if 
ever  you  got  out  of  this  hole  alive,  it'd  be  because  he 
hadn't  another  card  to  play." 

Fulke  paid  the  messenger,  and  kicked  him  out  of  the 
door ;  then,  his  brain  in  a  whirl  of  passion  and  despair, 
he  settled  Wyville's  claim,  and  walked  forth  that  very 
night,  the  possessor  of  freedom  and  an  almost  empty 
pocket. 

Passion  had  too  much  the  mastery  to  allow  of  his  form- 
ing any  definite  plan,  but  inaction  being  in  his  present 
mood  an  impossibility,  he  made  his  way  to  the  Thames, 
and  went  to  see  how  things  were  getting  on  aboard  the 
"  Bullfinch."     For  more  than  an  hour  he  remained  in 


86  FREE    TO    SERVE 

close  conversation  with  the  captain,  and  when  he  re- 
turned to  land  it  had  become  possible  for  him  to  sail  in 
the  "  Bullfinch."  The  cloud  had  not,  however,  lifted 
from  his  brow,  and  the  tight  pressure  of  his  lips  hardly 
spoke  of  a  satisfactory  emergence  from  his  difficulties. 
That  night  he  wrote  to  Aveline,  bidding  her  join  him  at 
once. 

Standing  on  deck  this  evening  he  told  her  of  the 
worries  he  had  encountered,  but  he  did  not  tell  her  that 
when  the  last  debt  was  paid  there  had  been  no  money 
to  pay  for  the  passage,  and  he  said  nothing  of  that  visit 
to  the  master  of  the  "  Bullfinch,"  and  its  result.  He 
owned  that  he  could  not  fully  meet  the  captain's  claim 
until  he  reached  America,  and  warned  his  sister  not  to 
take  too  much  notice  of  any  lapse  of  courtesy  on  the 
part  of  that  worthy. 

"There  is  nothing  for  it  but  patience,"  he  said. 
"  You  have  been  such  a  good  little  sister  thus  far. 
You  will  not  fail  me  now?" 

Aveline  would  not  have  been  herself  if  she  had  not 
been  appeased,  and  had  not  indulged  in  a  few  dreams 
that  night  in  her  tiny  cabin,  visions  in  which  Fulke, 
strong  in  virtue  and  happiness,  and  respected  in  the 
far-off  American  colonies,  was  seen  attributing  all  his 
success  to  his  sister's  efforts.  A  thorough  woman's 
dream,  and  as  likely  to  become  a  reality  as  the  ma- 
jority of  such  visions. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  87 


CHAPTER   X 

"  ^^^  OOD    morning  to  you,  young  mistress.     You 
■      .—-make  a  first-rate  sailor." 

V^--^  The  sun,  starting  up  as  if  from  the  depths  of 
the  sea,  had  barely  succeeded  in  lifting  the  rim  of  his 
disc  clear  of  the  water.  The  morning  breeze  blew  fresh 
in  Aveline's  face.  There  was  a  smile  on  her  lips,  and  a 
wistful  look  in  her  eyes.  She  had  just  been  telling  her- 
self that  the  red  ball  was  rising  over  Joan's  cottage  and 
the  Great  House,  and  the  long  reach  of  wave-broken  sea 
between  her  and  the  horizon  seemed  very  wide  when  she 
remembered  that  it  separated  her  from  home.  For  four 
days  there  had  been  nothing  visible  but  sea  and  sky. 
After  the  long  trip  down  the  coast,  with  land  never  far 
distant,  and  the  line  of  shore  giving  a  sense  of  nearness 
to  the  old  life,  this  great  unmanageable  ocean  seemed 
lonely.  It  was  sad,  too,  but  that  was  towards  night, 
when  the  darkness  gained  on  the  light,  and  the  sound 
of  the  waves  changed  from  a  song  to  a  lament.  It  was 
morning  now,  and  the  sea  was  bright  and  glad. 

The  recognition  Aveline  gave  the  master  of  the  "  Bull- 
finch "  was  a  cordial  one.  Since  the  first  day  she  had 
had  no  fault  to  find  with  his  demeanour  towards  her. 
She  had  seen  much  of  him,  for  from  the  beginning  he 
had  manifested  a  desire  to  cultivate  her  acquaintance. 
The  passengers  on  the  "  Bullfinch"  were  few — two  or 
three  new  settlers  going  with  their  wives  to  one  or 
other  of  the  American  provinces,  and  half  a  dozen  re- 
turning traders  and  residents.  The  ship-master  found 
most  to  study  in  his  youngest  passenger.  He  was  look- 
ing at  her  now  with  approbation. 

"  The  sea  has  been  good  to  me,  or  I  might  possibly 


•88  FREE   TO    SERVE 

have  shown  you  how  poor  a  sailor  I  should  turn  out," 
she  said. 

"  Aye,  it's  been  fine  sailing  weather,  good  for  young 
lambs  and  lasses,"  was  the  answer. 

Aveline  laughed. 

"  The  lambs  little  know  the  fate  that  is  ahead  of  them," 
she  said. 

"  True,"  he  replied,  and  his  sharp  eyes  scanned  her 
face.     "Do  the  lasses  know  much  more,  think  you?" 

They  paced  the  deck  together,  stopping  at  the  spot 
that  had  always  held  the  greatest  attraction  for  Aveline. 
Here  she  came  every  morning  to  visit  her  friends.  It 
was  a  regular  farmyard  on  shipboard.  The  ship's 
long-boat  lay  firmly  lashed  amidships,  turned  from  its 
original  purpose  into  a  big  pen,  in  the  lower  part  of 
which  sheep  and  pigs,  in  full  domestication,  attended  to 
their  family  arrangements,  while  ducks  and  geese  made 
their  voices  heard  above,  and  over  all  the  common  barn- 
yard fowls  cackled  and  crowed  and  fussed,  in  happy 
ignorance  of  the  fact  that  the  majority  of  them  would 
never  see  land  again.  Aveline  had  her  especial  pets 
among  each,  and  many  a  bribe,  in  the  shape  of  bread 
or  vegetable,  did  she  bring  to  win  their  affections. 

First  of  all  she  must  pay  her  respects  to  the  ship's  cow, 
a  good  motherly  animal,  with  no  gadding  propensities, 
whose  home  was  in  close  proximity  to  the  long-boat. 
She  was  waiting  for  her  share  of  favour,  her  moist  nose 
already  thrust  out  to  meet  the  girl's  hand. 

"  Do  you  happen  to  know  anything  about  milkin'  one 
o'  them  critters,  and  showin'  yourself  useful  in  the  butter- 
makin'?  "  asked  the  captain. 

Aveline  laughed. 

"  Enough  to  superintend  the  maids,  if  need  were,"  she 
said  ;  "  but  for  the  actual  milkin ,>"  and  churning  I  should 
not  like  to  answer." 

He  stood  looking  at  her. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  89 

"  You  ain't  a-goin'  to  be  noways  at  your  ease  as  a 
servin'-maid?  "  he  said,  and  there  was  interrogation  in  his 
tone. 

Aveline  looked  up,  wondering  to  what  he  could  refer. 

"  Ah,  I  thought  as  much,"  he  added,  and  walked  off 
to  the  wheel,  muttering  to  himself  as  he  went.  The 
quartermaster  heard  him  say:  "Bless  the  girl,  she's  as 
innocent  as  a  babe  !  "  But  the  next  moment  the  captain 
was  rating  him  for  turning  the  ship's  glass  before  the 
last  of  the  sand  had  run  out,  and  he  had  no  time  to  con- 
jecture what  the  words  might  mean. 

Time  passed  slowly  on  the  "  Bullfinch."  There  were 
days  when  the  wind  died  down  and  the  sails  hung  life- 
less, and  the  seamen  scanned  the  horizon  and  whistled 
for  a  breeze ;  and  there  were  days  when  the  wind 
blustered  throug*h  the  rigging,  and  set  the  sailors  to 
shortening  sail,  while  it  boasted  of  the  storm  it  could  raise 
if  it  chose.  But  it  did  not  choose.  Six  weeks  it  had 
had  to  carry  out  its  threat,  and  the  promised  gale  had 
not  come.  Now  the  prospect  of  reaching  land  was 
nearer  than  the  prospect  of  foul  weather. 

Everybody  on  board  the  "Bullfinch"  was  in  the  best 
of  spirits  —  everybody  but  Fulke.  It  was  six  weeks  since 
he  had  that  little  talk  with  the  captain  on  the  day  the 
"Bullfinch"  sailed.  He  had  very  little  to  say  to  the 
ship-master  now.  It  might  even  have  been  imagined 
that  he  shunned  him. 

The  captain's  eyes  twinkled  now  and  again  when  the 
young  man  suddenly  abandoned  some  good  lounging 
place  on  his  own  approach. 

"So  that's  the  game,  is  it?"  he  said  to  himself,  and 
kept  his  eye  on  his  passenger. 

Fulke  was  very  much  with  his  sister  in  those  days, 
studying  her  comfort,  and  doing  his  best  to  make  the 
long  voyage  pleasant  to  her.  More  than  once  Aveline 
looked  up  suddenly  to  find  him  watching  her  with  a 


90  FREE   TO    SERVE 

troubled,  uncertain  expression,  but  the  moment  she 
spoke  his  mood  would  change,  and  every  trace  of 
uneasiness  vanish.  As  they  drew  near  the  other  shore 
she  fancied  he  intentionally  kept  her  out  of  the  captain's 
way.  She  was  sure  that  he  himself  avoided  the  ship- 
master, and  that  the  ship-master  was  aware  of  the  fact. 

He  was  both  aware  of  it,  and  ill-pleased  with  it.  More 
than  once  he  directly  threw  himself  in  Fulke's  way,  and 
watched  the  effect  of  the  move.  Nothing  further  than 
a  little  insight  into  character  resulted,  but  possibly  it 
was  just  this  that  the  ship-master  sought. 

He  seemed  to  have  decided  at  last  that  he  had  carried 
his  investigations  far  enough,  for  one  afternoon,  when 
the  deck  was  unusually  free  from  passengers,  and  Fulke 
was  walking  slowly  towards  his  sister,  he  planted  him- 
self straight  in  the  young  man's  path. 

"  How  now,  young  sir?  Isn't  it  time  you  and  me  had 
a  talk  together?  "   he  said. 

Fulke  stopped  short,  but  he  glanced  towards  his 
sister  as  if  he  would  have  made  her  an  excuse  for  pro- 
ceeding. 

"  There  ain't  no  manner  of  use  puttin'  it  off  longer," 
said  the  master  of  the  "  Bullfinch,"  "  If  all  goes  well 
there  won't  be  but  two  days  before  we're  in  the  port  of 
New  York." 

"  So  much  the  better,"  was  the  answer.  "  Then 
there'll  be  no  need  of  talk." 

"Look  here,  young  man,"  said  the  captain,  "this 
'ere's  gone  far  enough.  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  let  things  rest 
like  that —  not  if  I  know  it.  You're  either  after  tryin' 
to  spring  this  thing  on  her,  or  else  on  me,  and  you  ain't 
a-goin'  to  do  neither." 

He  closely  watched  the  effect  of  his  words,  and  was 
not  at  all  surprised  to  see  that  beneath  the  dull  red  flush 
of  anger  on  the  young  man's  face  there  were  unmistak- 
able signs  of  fear. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  91 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  demanded  Fulke. 
"  You  know  you  cannot  have  your  money  until  we  reach 
New  York.  I  can  do  nothing  different  from  that  if  we 
talk  for  a  month." 

"  Yes,  you  can.  You  can  act  honest.  That's  what 
you  can  do.  It's  nothin'  better  than  actin'  the  knave 
to  keep  that  lass  in  the  dark  the  way  you're  doin'." 

Fulke  winced  at  the  plain  words. 

"  You  are  meddling  with  what  does  not  concern  you," 
he  began,  but  the  ship-master  cut  him  short. 

"  Don't  concern  me,  don't  it?  I  should  like  to  know 
who  it  does  concern  then.  You  didn't  ask  me  to  wait 
and  let  things  rest  a  bit  till  you  could  explain  it  all  to 
the  girl,  did  you  ?  Well,  I've  waited.  Nobody  can  say 
I  ever  said  a  word  to  the  young  maid,  though  the  inno- 
cent way  she's  took  things  has  made  me  feel  like  a 
Judas,  by  times.  'Pears  to  me  there's  them  that  hasn't 
got  neither  conscience  nor  feelin',  but  be  that  as  it  may, 
I  can't  stand  it  no  longer.  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  be  a  party 
to  lettin'  it  be  sprung  on  her  all  at  once,  when  she  goes 
to  set  foot  on  shore,  and  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  risk  my  money. 
There,  make  what  you  can  o'  that." 

"  There  is  no  question  of  losing  money,"  said  Fulke, 
talking  fast  to  hide  his  annoyance.  "  You  have  but  to 
hold  your  tongue  until  we  get  into  port,  and  then  your 
money  will  be  forthcoming.  As  for  my  concerns,  they 
are  my  own,  not  yours." 

"And  if  the  money  shouldn't  be  forthcomin' ?  " 

"There  is  no  '  if  about  it.     It  will  be." 

"  Supposin'  it  ain't?" 

"Then  you  have  the  remedy  in  your  own  hands." 

"  In  other  words,  you  will  carry  out  your  agreement?  " 

"  Yes  —  I  must."  There  was  the  irritability  of  weak- 
ness in  his  tone. 

"  Just  so.  And  you're  a-goin'  to  take  the  chance, 
and  never  let  her  know  beforehand — leave  me  the  job 


92  FREE   TO   SERVE 

of  stoppin'  her  when  she  starts  to  go  off  the  ship.  No, 
young  feller.  You  don't  come  that  game,  neither  on  me 
nor  her,  so  I  tell  you." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  demanded  Fulke, 
turning  squarely  upon  him. 

"That  if  you  don't  tell  the  lass,  I  will." 

Fulke's  hand  sought  the  hilt  of  his  sword.  There  was 
the  light  of  passion  in  his  eyes. 

"  Hold  there  !  "  cried  the  captain.  "  I'm  king  on  this 
vessel,  and  rebellion  ain't  likely  to  be  a  healthy  kind  of 
pastime — not  for  the  rebel.  You  try  any  of  them 
games,  and  I'll  make  short  work  with  you." 

He  drew  nearer  to  the  young  man  as  he  spoke. 

"  You  shall  pay  for  this,"  said  Fulke  savagely,  "  if  not 
on  this  vessel,  then  on  shore." 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right,"  replied  the  other,  with  a  sneer. 
"  The  payin's  like  to  be  .on  the  other  side,  and  unless 
I've  lost  my  mark,  it's  goin'  to  prove  too  much  for  you, 
as  yonder  poor  girl  will  find  to  her  cost." 

Fulke  glared  at  him  furiously. 

"  You  talk  mighty  innocent,"  he  said,  "  altogether  too 
innocent  for  the  instigator  of  the  whole  affair.  Who  but 
you  suggested  the  alternative?  " 

"  Aye,  I  did.  But  did  I  suggest  the  knavery  along- 
side of  it?  "  asked  the  captain.  "  Did  I  know  what  kind 
of  a  wench  was  in  question?  You  came  to  me  in  a 
quandary,  and  I  did  but  inform  you  of  a  method  taken 
many  a  time  before  by  those  who  would  reach  the  colo- 
nies. You  pleased  yourself  about  takin'  up  with  it.  But 
I  tell  you  this,  you'd  never  have  had  the  chance  if  I'd 
known  you  wasn't  man  enough  to  face  the  situation." 

"  I'm  ready  enough  to  face  it  the  moment  it  is  neces- 
sary," said  Fulke.  "  At  present  it  is  not,  and  I  won't 
annoy  my  sister  for  nothing." 

"You  won't,  won't  you?  Then  that  makes  it  plain 
sailin'  for  me.     There's  nothin'  left  but  to  put  an  end  to 


FREE   TO    SERVE  93 

this  business  once  for  all,"  said  the  captain,  and  with  a 
few  quick  strides  he  was  at  Aveline's  side. 

She  was  standing  before  the  ship's  long-boat,  feeding 
her  pets  with  tid-bits.  The  long-boat  was  almost  empty 
now.  Its  cargo  of  live  sheep  and  pigs  and  poultry  was 
sadly  diminished.  One  by  one  Aveline's  favourites  had 
disappeared,  going  the  way  of  the  cook's  galley.  Now 
only  the  ship's  cow  and  a  solitary  ewe  and  lamb  remained 
on  the  level  of  the  deck,  and  the  hens  that  cackled  above 
owed  their  immunity  solely  to  their  egg-laying  proclivi- 
ties. The  soft  eyes  of  the  cow  followed  the  girl's  move- 
ments with  an  intent  eagerness,  jealous  lest  any  dainty 
morsel  should  find  its  way  to  the  equally  expectant  lamb. 
The  ship-master  was  angry,  but  it  was  noticeable  that 
his  face  softened  as  he  looked  at  the  group. 

"Them  critters  are  in  luck,"  he  said.  "The  cow'll 
miss  you  sore  when  yon  land's  reached." 

Avelinc  looked  round  with  a  smile. 

"  I  shall  be  almost  sorry  to  go  ashore,"  she  answered. 
"  Only  the  touch  of  the  firm  earth  will  be  good.  I 
fairly  long  for  the  smell  of  the  trees  and  fields." 

"  Poor  lass !  Poor  little  lass !  "  he  said,  and  the 
answer  seemed  to  Aveline  strangely  irrelevant 

She  turned  from  the  long-boat,  and  saw  her  brother 
standing  in  the  rear  of  the  captain.  The  expression  on 
his  face  struck  her  with  a  sudden  terror.  She  looked 
from  one  to  the  other. 

"  My  lass,  this  'ere  young  spark's  a-shirkin'  his  duty, 
and  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  stand  by  and  see  it,"  the  captain 
said  bluntly.  "  If  I'd  a-known  before  we  started  what 
kind  o' stuff  you  and  him  was  made  of,  I'd  never  a-made 
the  bargain.     But  a  bargain's  a  bargain,  ain't  it?" 

"  Surely,"  said  Avelinc.  "  And  unless  I  am  much 
mistaken,  you  will  find  my  brother  as  ready  to  agree 
to  that  as  yourself" 

She  drew  herself  up  proudly,  and  stood  facing  him. 


94  FREE   TO    SERVE 

"  You've  got  some  pluck,  my  girl,  blest  if  you 
haven't"  said  the  ship-master  admiringly.  "  It's  a  pity, 
a  sore  pity,  that's  what  it  is,  and  I  take  it  there's  shame 
as  well  as  pity  somewhere." 

He  jerked  his  thumb  significantly  over  his  shoulder 
as  he  spoke. 

"I  can't  anyhow  forgive  myself  that  I  ever  had  a 
hand  in  consignin'  such  a  lass  as  you  to  bondage, 
though  it  was  no  business  o'  mine,"  he  said. 

"Bondage?" 

Aveline  spoke  the  word  inquiringly.  She  did  not 
understand  what  it  signified  in  the  present  case,  but 
her  lips  grew  white. 

"  Aye,  bondage  !  For  there's  nothin'  else  ahead  of  you, 
though  he's  tryin'  to  deceive  you  into  thinkin'  there  is." 

"Well,  you've  said  your  say.  Now  have  you  done?  " 
interrupted  Fulke,  in  a  voice  low  and  hoarse.  "  My 
sister  is  not  unwarned.  She  will  know  how  to  judge  of 
such  words  as  these." 

"  Done?  No,  young  man,  I've  not  done,  and  I  shan't 
be  done,  not  until  the  maid  understands  the  danger 
that's  threatenin'  her.     And  that  she  don't  do  yet." 

"  Truly  I  do  not  understand,"  said  Aveline  slowly. 

"  I'll  warrant  you  don't,"  said  the  ship-master.  "  Little 
he's  ever  warned  you,  I'll  be  bound," — there  was  an- 
other jerk  of  the  thumb,  —  "that  when  you  set  foot 
on  yonder  shore  you'll  be  a  free  woman  no  longer. 
Maybe  you've  heard  of  a  bond-servant?" 

She  looked  at  him  with  wide-open,  horrified  eyes,  but 
she  did  not  answer.  Even  now  she  did  not  understand. 
She  appealed  straight  to  her  brother. 

"  Fulke,  is  this  true?" 

Her  voice  was  lower  than  his  had  been,  but  there  was 
in  it  something  that  compelled  answer. 

"  No.     It  shall  not  be  true." 

She  looked  into  his  face.     His  eyes  refused  to  meet 


FREE   TO   SERVE  95 

hers.  If  he  had  said  "  Yes,"  it  would  not  as  surely  have 
driven  home  the  conviction  of  his  treachery.  It  was 
this,  rather  than  the  thought  of  danger  to  herself,  that 
made  her  voice  shake  and  her  eye  fall.  She  could  not 
realize  the  whole  of  the  catastrophe  at  once. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  it  all  means,"  she  said ;  and 
there  was  pitiful  bewilderment  in  her  tone.  "  There 
must  have  been  some  misunderstanding." 

"  Aye,  that  there  has  —  misunderstanding  enough," 
said  the  captain. 

"  And  lies  and  misrepresentation  enough,"  broke  in 
Fulke,  coming  at  last  to  his  sister's  side. 

"  Lies,  are  they?  "  shouted  the  ship-master,  losing 
control  of  himself.  "  And  I  suppose  that  paper  you 
signed  before  you  ever  set  foot  on  the  *  Bullfinch  '  as  a 
passenger  was  a  lie  too,  and  you  didn't  covenant  to 
secure  the  passage  money  to  me  by  givin'  me  the  power 
to  sell,  if  necessary,  a  certain  wench,  by  name  Aveline 
Nevard,  as  a  bond-servant  in  the  colony  of  New  York? 
You  don't  know  nothin'  about  any  such  agreement,  eh, 
young  man?  " 

For  answer  Fulke  lifted  his  clinched  hand,  but  before 
he  could  strike,  Aveline  was  in  front  of  him. 

"  Stop  !  "  she  cried.  "  This  is  no  way  to  settle  such 
a  matter."  Then  her  eyes  turned  to  the  captain,  and 
she  said :  "  Sir,  I  know  not  what  there  is  beneath  this 
recrimination.  I  must  talk  with  my  brother.  Rest 
assured  that  I  will  in  no  way  be  party  to  defrauding  you 
of  a  penny  that  is  your  due." 

She  turned  from  him  haughtily. 

"  Fulke,  come  !  "  she  said. 

She  put  her  hand  on  his  arm,  and  he  was  constrained 
to  walk  with  her  to  the  end  of  the  deck.  She  had  seen 
what,  in  his  passion,  he  had  not  noticed  —  the  approach 
of  half  a  dozen  passengers,  attracted  by  the  ship-master's 
loud  tones  and    the  young    man's  belligerent  attitude. 


g6  FREE  TO   SERVE 

A  quarrel  on  shipboard  was  a  diversion  rare  enough  to 
present  an  attraction  altogether  its  own. 

Fulke  would  have  broken  away  from  her,  but  she 
stopped  him  imperatively. 

"  Don't  leave  me,"  she  said.  "  We  will  go  below  in 
a  few  minutes." 

She  stopped  to  exchange  a  word  with  one  of  the  sail- 
ors, and  the  clear,  proud  ring  of  her  voice  was  borne 
upon  the  wind  to  where  the  ship-master  still  stood  look- 
ing after  the  two. 

"  She's  a  spirited  one,  that  she  is, "  he  muttered. 
"  But  she's  got  to  come  down.  That  young  jacka- 
napes is  bound  to  lay  her  pride  in  the  dust." 

The  ship-master  was  doggedly  obtuse  and  uncommu- 
nicative beneath  the  questioning  of  the  new-comers, 
and  they  were  under  the  necessity  of  watching  devel- 
opments for  themselves.  All  the  conclusion  they  ar- 
rived at  was  that  Fulke's  face  was  red  with  anger,  and 
his  sister's  whiter  than  usual.  Before  they  could  carry 
their  observations  further,  the  two  disappeared  down 
the  steep  stairs  to  the  big  cabin.  Not  that  this  was 
their  destination.  Aveline  passed  through  it  with  her 
head  held  high,  and  her  step  firm,  and  Fulke  was  obliged 
to  follow  her.  She  went  on  to  her  own  cabin,  and  shut 
and  fastened  the  door.  Then  she  turned  and  faced  her 
brother. 

"  Now!  "  she  said,  and  stood  looking  at  him. 

"  You  are  distressing  yourself  for  nothing,"  he  said 
eagerly,  "  I  would  have  saved  you  all  this,  but  for  that 
meddlesome  fool." 

"  Yet  there  was  truth  in  what  he  said?  " 

She  spoke  quietly. 

"  Truth?  Yes.  Of  a  sort.  But  not  what  he  would 
have  you  believe." 

"  And  this  paper  of  which  he  spoke  ?    Is  it  a  fiction  ?  " 

He  did  not  answer.     In  that  moment  the  ship-mas- 


FREE  TO   SERVE  97 

ter's  words,  heard  but  not  comprehended,  stood  out, 
and  took  hold  of  Aveline's  consciousness :  "  When 
you  set  foot  on  yonder  shore,  you'll  be  a  free  woman 
no  longer."  They  seemed  to  be  beating  against  her 
brain  with  a  force  that  was  irresistible.  For  the  first 
time  fear  for  herself,  terror  at  the  possibilities  of  the 
future,  took  possession  of  her.  The  silence  of  the 
little  cabin  pressed  in  upon  her.  What  was  in  store 
for  her  when  she  left  its  shelter? 

"  Why  do  you  not  answer?  " 

Fulke  had  never  heard  her  speak  thus ;  he  had  never 
seen  her  just  as  she  was  now. 

"  Because  I  despair  of  making  you  understand.  I  did 
give  him  the  paper.  There  was  nothing  else  to  be 
done.  But — I  never  meant  it  to  come  into  effect.  It 
never  shall  come  into  effect." 

"  In  other  words,  you  meant  to  cheat  him  through 
me." 

"  Nonsense  !  You  don't  understand.  You  might  have 
some  pity  for  the  strait  I  was  in." 

"  I  thought,  until  now,  that  you  might  have  had  some 
pity  for  me." 

Her  voice  was  hard  and  cold. 

"Aveline,  be  reasonable,"  he  said.  "  What  could  I  do  ? 
If  I  did  not  sail  in  the  '  Bullfinch,'  everything  was  lost. 
It  was  your  money  I  was  losing  —  " 

"  I  wonder  you  should  remember  that,"  interrupted 
Aveline. 

"  And  my  own  honour  was  at  stake." 

"  It  is  not  at  stake  now,"  was  the  quiet  reply. 

**  I  saw  no  way  out.  The  ship-master  suggested  that 
one  of  us  should  agree  to  be  security  for  his  money.  It 
was  only  a  form.  It  will  never  be  carried  out.  As  soon 
as  we  reach  the  port  of  New  York  I  shall  look  up  Ben- 
net,  and  get  from  him  the  sum  I  need.  He  has  ample 
security  in  the  cargo,  which  is  in  his  name  and  mine 


98  FREE   TO    SERVE 

combined.  All  there  is  in  it  is  the  annoyance  of  your 
having  to  remain  on  the  vessel  as  a  pledge.  I  grant 
you  that  it  is  an  annoyance  —  now.  But  if  I  had  had  my 
way,  you  would  not  even  have  known  why  you  stayed." 

"  You  were  considerate —  very,"  said  Aveline.  "  And 
what  was  the  hindrance  to  the  carrying  out  of  so  well- 
formed  a  plan?  " 

"  Nothing  but  an  absurd  quibble  on  the  part  of  the 
captain.  He  chooses  to  think  that  Bennet  will  not  be 
at  the  port,  and  that  his  money  will  not  be  safe." 

"  And  if  he  should  not  be  there?  " 

"  He  zvill  be  there.     Why  not?  " 

"  Does  his  trading  lie  in  the  port  of  New  York  ?  "  asked 
Aveline,  with  a  sinking  of  heart  at  the  thought  of  what 
it  would  mean  to  her  if  it  did  not. 

"No  —  that  is,  I  am  not  certain.  Aveline,  don't  be 
foolish.  If  he  be  not  there,  I  will  find  him.  Trust  me 
this  once." 

He  took  both  her  hands  in  his.  They  rested  passive  in 
his  grasp.  There  was  no  answering  movement,  though 
his  pressure  was  painful  in  its  intensity. 

"  If  you  should  not  find  him,  the  agreement  will  have 
to  be  carried  out?  " 

Aveline  was  looking  into  his  eyes  with  a  gaze  too  pene- 
trating for  his  specious  arguments.  It  pierced  through 
them  all. 

"  Aveline,  forgive  me,"  he  said.  "I  promise  you  it 
shall  never  come  to  that." 

She  turned  away  from  him,  drawing  her  hands  forcibly 
from  his  grasp. 

"  Go  away  now,"  she  said.  "I  —  must  have  time  to 
face  it." 


FREE  TO   SERVE  99 


CHAPTER  XI 

FULKE  turned  at  the  door  and  looked  back,  half 
hoping  Aveline  would  recall  him,  but  she  made 
no  sign.  She  stood  just  where  he  left  her,  not 
stirring  even  when  she  heard  his  footsteps  dying  away. 
She  was  stunned  by  the  greatness  of  the  calamity.  She 
had  staked  everything  on  Fulke's  honour  —  and  lost. 
She  had  been  so  sure  that  her  sacrifice  could  result  in 
nothing  less  than  the  bringing  out  of  all  that  was  best 
in  him,  that  the  outcome  seemed  to  her  incredible. 
There  had  been  nothing  to  prepare  her  for  it,  though, 
looking  back  now,  she  remembered  words  that  had 
awakened  a  vague  uneasiness,  a  sense  of  insecurity.  It 
was  strange  how  they  had  failed  to  give  her  any  real 
premonition  of  danger. 

She  had  trusted  her  brother  as  none  of  the  others  had 
trusted  him.  Sir  Julian  had  been  wiser.  From  the  first 
he  had  doubted  the  wisdom  of  her  decision. 

A  new  pang  came  to  her  with  the  thought  of  Sir 
Julian.  To  prove  to  her  uncle  that  Fulke  was  made  of 
nobler  stuff  than  his  clear-seeing  eyes  had  discerned, 
had  been  one  of  the  joys  set  before  her,  and  the  thought 
of  the  quiet,  incisive  tones  that  would  call  Fulke's  action 
by  its  true  name,  and  yet  leave  no  excuse  for  quarrel- 
ling with  the  term,  made  the  failure  look  doubly  dark. 
To  know  that  everybody  would  blame  him,  and  not  be 
able  to  challenge  the  condemnation  as  unjust,  was  a 
bitter  ending  to  her  dream.  She  had  been  very  sure 
they  were  unfair  to  him  —  Sir  Julian  and  Joan,  both. 
Back  to  the  girl's  memory  came  Joan's  warning,  uttered 
that  last  morning  at  Eastenholme.     After  all,  she  had 


lOO  FREE   TO   SERVE 

known  Fulke  better  than  his  sister  had  done.  Joan  had 
spoken  truly  —  she  had  done  wrong  to  trust  him. 

"  Joan  !  Joan  !      If  I  had  only  believed  you  !  " 

The  words  did  not  pass  her  lips,  but  in  her  heart  they 
were  a  bitter  cry.  A  longing  for  human  comfort,  fox 
the  touch  of  loving  arms,  came  with  the  thought  of 
Joan,  and  following  close  upon  it  the  consciousness  how 
utterly  she  was  alone.  Fulke  no  longer  counted.  The 
terror  of  the  future  hemmed  her  in.  She  could  not 
realize  the  evil,  she  did  not  know  enough  about  it  to 
picture  it,  but  she  shrank  from  it  with  the  shrinking  of 
a  child  that  fears  the  darkness  which  it  is  yet  obliged 
to  enter.  She  felt  that  the  future  was  even  now  over- 
shadowing her,  and  she  retreated  a  step,  as  though  the 
walls  of  her  cabin  could  keep  it  off.  She  could  hear  the 
wind  whistling  among  the  sails  of  the  vessel,  and  was 
conscious  that  every  puff  was  bringing  the  future  nearer. 
She  remembered  how  the  ship-master  had  rubbed  his 
hands  that  morning,  satisfied  that  the  breezes  were  to-day 
all  in  his  favour.  She  found  herself  wondering  what 
likelihood  there  was  of  a  change  of  wind.  Unfavour- 
able weather  might  put  off  the  inevitable. 

America  had  suddenly  become  a  great  unknown  deso- 
lation, filled  with  terrible  possibilities.  She  had  never 
thought  of  it  so  before.  It  had  been  to  her  a  place 
where  she  and  Fulke  were  to  seek  for  fortune,  and  to 
gain  —  or  at  least  Fulke  was  to  gain  —  the  stronger 
character  that  should  make  him  a  power  in  the  world. 
As  it  came  nearer  she  had  found  herself  taking  an  in- 
terest in  it,  such  an  interest  as  had  not  seemed  possible 
when  she  left  Eastenholme.  Now  more  than  the  first 
loneliness  and  desolation  had  returned.  That  was  grief 
over  loss  of  good,  this  was  dread  of  on-coming,  pressing 
evil. 

Gradually  the  evil  assumed  more  definite  shape,  grow- 
ing into  something  she  could  grasp.     A  serving-maid  ! 


FREE   TO   SERVE  loi 

The  captain  had  spoken  of  it  once  —  spoken  of  it  in  con- 
nection with  herself.  She  had  wondered  what  strange 
idea  was  in  his  mind.  It  did  not  seem  less  strange  now 
that  it  had  become  something  more  than  an  idea.  She 
thought  of  the  maids  at  home,  under  Lady  Betty's  firm 
rule.  A  serving-maid  in  the  colonies  would  doubtless 
lead  a  different  life. 

From  that  other  term  she  shrank,  refusing  at  first  to 
give  it  place.  It  was  a  horror  kept  in  the  background 
of  her  consciousness,  yet  it  never  retreated  beyond  the 
pale  of  consciousness,  and  little  by  little  it  edged  its  way 
forward,  till  it  claimed  recognition.  Once  to  the  front, 
it  stayed  there,  refusing  to  be  thrust  aside,  and  by  its 
very  enormity  causing  every  other  terror  to  grow  small. 

A  bond-servant !  Just  how  much  the  word  meant  she 
did  not  know,  but  it  lost  nothing  in  grimness  by  being 
vague.  The  ship-master  was  not  a  man  of  refined  sensi- 
bilities, yet  he  had  pitied  her  fate.  Service  might  be 
honourable,  but  bondage —  ! 

She  threw  herself  upon  her  bed,  and  buried  her  face. 
It  was  burning,  but  her  hands  were  cold.  Wild  visions 
of  terror  ran  riot  in  her  brain.  She  felt  as  if  anything 
were  possible,  now  that  it  had  been  possible  for  Fulke 
to  sacrifice  her,  to  sign  away  her  right  to  the  possession 
of  herself.  That  was  the  one  bit  of  certainty  in  the  ad- 
vancing host  of  possibilities.  Fulke  himself  did  not  deny 
the  existence  of  the  agreement  empowering  the  master 
of  the  "  Bullfinch "  to  sell  the  services  of  one  Ave- 
line  Nevard.  And  the  ship-master  was  ready  to  insist 
upon  the  carrying  out  of  the  compact.  Why  should  he 
not  be?  It  had  been  made  for  the  convenience  of  the 
signer.  If  the  event  proved  satisfactory,  it  would  be 
well ;   if  not,  the  agreement  was  none  the  less  binding. 

Aveline  lay  long  with  her  face  hidden  from  the  light. 
Again  and  again  came  the  sound  of  the  ship's  bell, 
struck  when  the  man  at  the  wheel  turned  his  half-hour- 


I02  FREE   TO    SERVE 

glass.  The  watch  had  been  changed  just  before  she 
came  below ;  now  the  six  strokes  of  the  bell  told  that  six 
half-hours  had  passed.  Two  more  and  there  would  be 
a  fresh  watch.  Not  many  more  watches  would  be  needed 
before  land  was  reached.  Great  as  was  the  disaster,  it 
was  yet  coming  momentarily  nearer. 

But  the  closing  in  of  the  forces  of  fear  had  another 
effect  than  that  of  overwhelming  Aveline  with  their  power, 
and  shutting  her  up  within  their  influence.  Their  very 
strength  caused  reaction,  a  strong  rebound  from  despair. 
This  future  to  which  she  was  looking  was  too  unrea- 
sonably full  of  evil  to  be  a  reality.  It  had  not  come  yet. 
There  was  no  certainty  that  it  would  come.  Fulke  de- 
clared it  to  be  impossible.  It  was  at  least  as  likely  that 
Roger  Bennet  would  be  at  the  port  at  the  time  when  his 
cargo  was  expected  to  arrive,  as  that  he  would  be  up  the 
country.  And  if  not,  there  was  the  chance  of  inducing 
the  ship-master  to  wait. 

The  hours  of  the  afternoon  had  been  scarcely  less 
long  to  Fulke  than  to  his  sister.  His  thoughts  were  not 
more  comforting,  and  his  efforts  to  escape  them  were 
particularly  unsatisfactory.  His  impatience  drove  him 
on  deck,  where  he  glared  at  the  captain  and  growled  at 
every  one  who  was  bold  enough  to  address  him.  More 
than  one  tried  the  experiment,  and  more  than  one  went 
off  discomfited.  Curiosity  is  a  force  strong  enough  to 
lead  men  to  brave  something  worse  than  a  savage  re- 
joinder. 

It  was  growing  dark  when  Fulke  felt  a  hand  laid  on 
his  arm,  and  turned  to  find  Aveline  by  his  side.  He 
seized  the  hand  before  it  could  be    withdrawn. 

"  You  are  a  good  little  sis',"  he  said.  "  I  thought 
you  would  be  sensible  when  you  had  time  to  think  it 
over." 

He  was  peering  into  her  face  in  the  dim  light  to  see 
whether  or  not  she  had  been  as  "  sensible  "  as  he  desired. 


FREE   TO   SERVE  103 

"  We  may  as  well  keep  up  appearances  until  the  worst 
comes,"  she  said. 

"  The  worst  will  never  come  !  It  is  simply  impos- 
sible !  "  cried  Fulke  eagerly. 

He  would  have  been  better  satisfied  if  the  impossibility 
had  rested  on  a  firmer  foundation. 

"Fulke,  Sir  Julian  must  not  know  of  this.  Whatever 
may  happen,  he  must  not  know  you  have  failed." 

The  reproach  struck  home,  but  the  young  man  was 
only  too  glad  to  agree  to  the  proposition. 

"  There  will  be  no  need  for  him  to  know,"  he  said. 
"  If  only  that  rascally  captain  had  kept  a  still  tongue  in 
his  head,  none  need  have  known.  I  am  distracted  that 
I  was  forced  to  subject  you  to  the  fellow's  insolence. 
There  is  nothing  more  in  it  than  that,  yet  that  is  enough. 
I  would  have  been  bound  myself,  but  then  how  could  I 
seek  Bennet?  " 
*     "  Then  you  feared  he  would  not  be  at  the  port?" 

The  quietness  of  her  tone  was  broken  by  a  quiver  she 
could  not  control. 

"  It  is  just  possible.     But  I  shall  seek  him." 

"  And  in  the  meantime?  " 

"You  would  have  to  stay  on  board.  It  is  a  horrible 
necessity  —  but  I  do  not  believe  it  will  come.  I  am 
certain  Bennet  will  be  there." 

And  so  Aveline  tried  to  think,  but  her  face  looked 
worn  and  strained  when  the  captain  saw  it  in  the  morn- 
ing.    All  she  said  to  him  was : 

"  My  brother  has  explained  matters  to  me.  He  did 
not  wish  to  alarm  me  unnecessarily.  I  do  not  know 
how  it  will  turn  out,  but  —  you  shall  not  lose  your 
money." 

As  for  the  ship-master,  he  kept  his  own  counsel. 
Possibly  he  was  ashamed  of  the  bargain  he  had  made. 
It  was  no  uncommon  one ;  the  only  singularity  lay  in 
the  character  and  station  of  the  girl  who  was  affected 


I04  FREE   TO    SERVE 

by  it.  He  had  taken  over  passengers  who  were  glad  to 
secure  a  home  at  the  end  of  the  voyage,  and  learn  some- 
thing about  the  land  they  had  come  to  before  they  had 
to  stand  alone  in  it.  To  sell  their  services  was  some- 
times —  though  the  rule  was  far  from  being  universal  — 
to  procure  for  them  a  home  as  good,  or  better,  than  that 
from  which  they  had  come.  But  this  girl  was  of  another 
type.  In  the  set  lips  and  studiedly  quiet  tones  he  saw 
how  much  it  cost  her  even  to  speak  of  the  possibility 
that  lay  in  the  future.  The  ship- master  was  the  victim 
of  one  or  two  vague  impulses  to  let  the  money  go,  to 
tell  the  girl  that  he  would  trust  to  her  honour,  —  her 
brother  he  left  out  of  the  account,  —  but  they  were  too 
vague  and  fleeting  to  produce  effect.  The  habit  of  a 
life  is  proof  against  an  accidental  leaning  towards  tender- 
ness. To  make  money  and  hold  it,  was,  to  the  master  of 
the  "  Bullfinch,"  the  first  duty  of  man  —  certainly  of  the 
man  Captain  Crandal,  master  and  part  owner  of  the 
"  Bullfinch."  To  lose  money  was  in  his  eyes  more  than 
a  weakness — it  approached  very  near  to  a  crime.  He 
was  sorry  for  the  girl,  but,  after  all,  a  bargain  was  a  bar- 
gain, and  people  must  expect  to  keep  it. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  105 


CHAPTER   XII 

THE  ship  had  cast  anchor  in  the  night.  The  long 
sea-voyage  was  ended,  and  the  Atlantic  belonged 
to  the  past.  Aveline  stood  upon  the  deck  and 
looked  at  the  land.  This  was  America,  and  the  old 
life  was  completely  ended.  Worse  still,  the  new  life 
had  begun. 

The  passengers  were  all  gone,  in  a  hurry  to  exchange 
the  vessel's  planks  for  solid  land.  Half  the  sailors  were 
on  shore.  The  ship  was  almost  deserted,  for  unload- 
ing had  not  yet  begun.  All  were  free  to  go  where  they 
would  —  all  but  Aveline.  She  had  not  attempted  to 
leave  the  ship.  She  was  too  proudl}^  conscious  of  the 
hold  the  captain  had  upon  her  to  run  the  risk  of  being 
stopped.  She  would  have  been  glad  to  go  with  her 
brother  to  look  for  Roger  Bennet.  The  uncertainty 
would  not  have  been  as  trying  if  she  could  have  taken 
part  in  the  search.  But  to  ask  permission  to  go  was 
harder  than  to  stay.  For  her  —  Aveline  Nevard  —  to 
find  it  necessary  to  consult  the  will  of  another  before 
she  could  step  forth  with  the  freedom  enjoyed  by  the 
commonest  sailor  on  board,  was  bondage  enough  in 
itself. 

She  stood  proudly,  all  the  more  proudly  that  the 
shame  of  her  bondage  was  strong  upon  her.  The  ship- 
master was  not  there.  He  had  gone  ashore  an  hour 
ago.  Fulke  had  been  the  first  to  leave  the  ship,  too 
impatient  to  stay  a  moment  longer  than  was  necessary. 

"  I  shall  soon  set  your  mind  at  rest  now,"  he  said,  as 
he  stooped  to  kiss  her. 

He  had  been  gone  many  hours,  and  each  one  had 
caused  a  deeper  sinking  of  hope  in  Aveline's  heart.     If 


io6  FREE   TO    SERVE 

Roger  Bennet  were  in  New  York,  why  had  not  Fulke 
returned  before  this?  He  would  not  wilHngly  keep  her 
in  suspense.  She  tried  to  find  excuse  for  the  delay,  but 
the  added  hours  called  for  more  than  one  readjustment 
of  her  explanations. 

She  had  always  been  strong  of  body  and  nerve,  but 
the  suspense  of  the  last  two  days  had  proved  a  drain 
on  the  young  life  and  health.  A  feeling  of  weariness 
and  weakness  assailed  her  as  she  stood  facing  the  land, 
watching  for  her  brother.  Once  she  sat  down  on  a 
coil  of  rope  that  a  sailor  good-naturedly  moved  to  a 
convenient  position.  But  she  could  not  sit  still.  The 
time  seemed  longer,  and  she  found  it  harder  to  breathe. 
She  could  see  further  standing,  and  it  was  easier  to  fight 
down  her  fear. 

She  was  standing  when  she  saw  him  coming.  Her 
heart  played  her  the  trick  of  a  coward,  and  began  to 
throb  unreasonably.  She  held  herself  very  still,  all  her 
faculties  engrossed  in  watching  her  brother.  She  could 
not  see  the  expression  of  his  face  —  he  was  too  far  off; 
but  his  step  was  slow.  All  the  eagerness  had  gone 
from  his  movements.  His  feet  seemed  to  drag.  A 
sickening  certainty  that  he  had  failed,  that  the  worst 
had  come,  forced  itself  upon  her.  When  he  was  near 
enough  she  read  confirmation  in  his  face.  It  was  hag- 
gard and  desperate.  She  went  a  step  to  meet  him  as 
he  came  on  deck. 

"  Bennet  is  not  here.  I  shall  have  to  go  to  Albany," 
he  said.  Then,  as  her  face  grew  whiter  than  before,  he 
added,  "  Don't,  child  !  It  is  not  as  desperate  as  you 
think.     He  is  to  be  found.     He  shall  be  found." 

He  grasped  her  arm  as  he  spoke.  The  marks  of  his 
fingers  remained.  He  was  speaking  under  strong  excite- 
ment. For  the  first  time  he  owned  to  himself  that  his 
sister  was  in  danger.  He  was  thoroughly  roused  now, 
desperately  roused.     Aveline  stood  and  looked  at  him, 


FREE   TO    SERVE  107 

the  horror  in  her  eyes  leaving  nothing  to  be  said  in 
words. 

"  Here's  Captain  Crandal,"  said  Fulke  hurriedly.  "  I 
must  see  him  and  explain." 

"  Don't  go.     I  — am  frightened." 

Aveline  stretched  out  her  hand.  He  caught  it,  and 
drew  her  to  him. 

"  Poor  little  girl !  "  he  said.  "  I  never  thought  it 
would  come  to  this.  But  you  must  not  despair.  We 
shall  find  Bennet  yet,  and  Crandal  must  wait." 

"Will  he?"  asked  Aveline,  clutching  desperately  at 
the  hope. 

"  Of  course  he  will.     Come  on,  we'll  ask  him  now." 

He  kept  his  arm  about  her,  and  drew  her  over  to  inter- 
cept the  captain  as  he  stepped  aboard. 

"  Hullo  !     Found  your  man?  "  he  asked. 

"  No.     He  is  up  the  country," 

"  So  I  heard.  Expected  he  would  be.  Well?  What 
next?  " 

"  I  must  go  and  find  him." 

"Where  to?" 

"  This  place  called  Albany.     He  is  there." 

The  captain  whistled. 

"  Very  well,"  he  said.     "  And  my  money?" 

"  You  shall  have  it  as  soon  as  I  get  back." 

Another  whistle. 

"  How  long  will  it  take  me  to  go  to  Albany  and 
back?"  asked  Fulke. 

"  Depends  on  circumstances.  There's  a  sloop  going 
in  two  or  three  days.  With  favourable  winds  you  may 
get  back  inside  of  two  weeks." 

"  And  you  will  give  us  time?  "  said  Aveline,  lifting  a 
white  face  to  his. 

He  answered  by  another  whistle,  a  long  doubtful  note. 

"Think  what  it  means  to  me,"  she  pleaded.  "To 
you  a  few  days  more  or  less  cannot  mean  much.     Your 


io8  FREE   TO    SERVE 

money  is  safe,  for  —  I  suppose  — you  can  make  it  of  my 
services  in  any  case." 

A  slight  flush  came  to  her  face  as  she  forced  the  words 
from  her  hps. 

"  Time?  Yes,  I  could  give  you  time  —  all  there  is  of 
it,"  said  the  ship-master  sulkily.  "  But  I  don't  know  as 
that'll  help  you  much.  I  ain't  expectin'  to  stay  here  more 
than  two  or  three  weeks  to  take  in  cargo  —  three  at  the 
outside.  It's  all  waitin'  for  me,  and  when  it's  aboard  I've 
got  to  sail.  And  before  I  sail,  this  matter's  got  to  be 
settled." 

"  But  you  will  give  us  the  three  weeks?  "said  Aveline, 
catching  at  the  hope  his  words  contained. 

Again  there  was  that  long  whistle.  It  seemed  to  the 
girl  that  it  pierced  through  brain  and  heart. 

"  And  sell  your  time  on  the  last  day?  What  chance 
do  you  think  I  should  stand  of  doin'  that?  Purchasers 
don't  come  every  day,  and  'tain't  exactly  likely  one  will 
be  on  hand  right  to  the  minute.  No,  young  mistress, 
it's  got  to  be  done  when  I  can  find  a  customer.  But, 
look  you,  I'll  do  the  best  I  can  for  you,  and  get  the  high- 
est price  that's  goin'  for  your  labour.  I'll  look  out  for 
you  as  far  as  it  can  be  done,  and  not  risk  the  money.  I 
can't  say  fairer  than  that." 

Aveline  grasped  the  ship's  rail  to  steady  herself. 
Water  and  sky  were  one  blur  of  swaying  whiteness.  She 
could  not  see  the  captain's  face  —  that  was  part  of  the 
blur. 

The  ship-master  had  been  looking  out  towards  the  sea, 
examining  the  small  craft  near  at  hand,  gazing  anywhere, 
except  at  the  girl.  Now  something  impelled  him  to 
glance  furtively  at  her. 

"  Heavens  !  if  this  isn't  the  hardest  job  I've  done  in  my 
life  !  "  he  ejaculated.  "  See  here,  my  lass.  I  can't  stand 
seein'  you  look  like  that,  and  you  one  of  the  pluckiest 
wenches  I  ever  come  across.     I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do. 


FREE    TO    SERVE  109 

I'll  give  you  a  full  week  from  now  before  I  take  a  step  to 
sell  your  time.  That'll  give  you  a  chance.  Like  as  not 
this  young  man  will  be  back  again  before  a  customer 
appears,  and  if  one  should  come,  I'll  put  him  off  to  the 
last  moment  possible.  I  don't  say  I'll  lose  the  sale.  I 
can't  afford  that,  but  I'll  do  anything  but  lose  it.  Come 
now,  I  can't  say  no  fairer,  can  I?  " 

Aveline  did  not  answer,  but  she  held  out  her  hand  to 
him.      He  took  it  in  both  his  big  ones,  and  held  it. 

"  Couldn't  you  take  some  of  the  cargo?  I'll  make  it 
right  with  Roger  Bennet,"  said  Fulke. 

"  Young  man,  we  had  that  over  before  we  started,"  was 
the  answer.  "  I  ain't  got  no  right  to  touch  that  cargo,  and 
more  ain't  you.  I  know  Roger  Bennet.  He's  a  man  of 
business,  and  don't  allow  no  tamperin'  with  his  affairs." 

"  But  you  must  know  that  I  am  his  partner?  Surely 
he  spoke  of  me?  " 

"  Aye,  he  did.  And  he  said  you  was  a  stranger  to 
him,  or  had  been  till  a  week  or  so  before.  He  coun- 
selled me  to  look  after  things  a  bit,  and  if  he  wasn't  in 
the  port  of  New  York,  to  see  everything  put  on  the  sloop 
for  Albany.  TJiat  I'm  goin'  to  do.  But  if  you  think 
that  what  I've  seen  of  you  has  given  me  any  reason  to 
trust  you  specially,  I  shouldn't  mind  bein'  told  just 
what  that  reason  is.  You  might  think  it  unnecessary 
to  be  straightforward  with  me,  same  as  you  did  with 
this  poor  lass  here,  eh,  young  man?" 

Fulke  suppressed  an  answer  it  was  not  wise  to  utter. 
His  face  reddened,  and  his  hand  shook. 

"  Why,  you  may  be  tradin'  with  the  Far  Indians,  or  in 
any  other  outlandish  part,  before  I  come  again,  and  then 
I  may  whistle  for  my  money,"  continued  the  captain. 

"Then  there  is  nothing  left  for  me  to  do  but  hasten 
to  Albany,"  said  Fulke,  trying,  for  Aveline's  sake,  to 
speak  calmly. 

"  Nothin',  as  far  as  I  can  see." 


no  FREE    TO    SERVE 

The  young  man  stood  for  a  moment  looking  from  the 
captain  to  his  sister.  She  did  not  see  the  look.  She 
did  not  see  anything  just  then.  It  took  all  her  strength 
to  bear  the  shock. 

"  Come,"  he  said.  "  If  that  is  how  things  are  going, 
it's  no  earthly  use  to  stand  here  longer.  I  must  make 
preparations  for  the  journey.  I  shall  depend  ufJon  you, 
Captain  Crandal,  to  see  that  the  cargo  is  put  aboard  the 
sloop.      That,  at  least,  is  in  your  agreement." 

"  Aye,  that's  in  the  agreement,  and  you'll  find  Geof- 
frey Crandal  a  man  of  his  word  every  time.  Them  as 
know  him  can  answer  for  that.  He  don't  do  no  double 
dealin'  himself,  nor  yet  let  nobody  else." 

The  ship-master  turned  and  went  about  his  business, 
but  Aveline  stood  holding  by  the  rail.  There  was  the 
same  blur  of  sea  and  sky  before  her  eyes.  There  seemed 
nothing  solid  left  in  the  world. 

"  Come,  child,  I  cannot  leave  you  here.  I  must  see 
about  the  unloading  of  the  cargo,  and  the  transfer  to 
the  sloop.  Possibly  persuasion  may  have  more  effect 
on  her  skipper  than  it  has  had  on  Crandal,  and  I  may 
induce  him  to  hasten  his  departure.  Thank  goodness, 
I've  enough  money  to  pay  for  the  trip.  Before  I  return 
I  shall  have  seen  Bennet." 

Fulke  stepped  forward  briskly  as  he  spoke.  He  was 
trying  to  divert  his  sister  from  the  one  idea  that  had 
taken  possession  of  her.  Her  face  frightened  him,  it 
was  so  pitifully  white  and  set. 

She  did  not  respond;  she  had  not  even  heard  him. 
He  put  his  arm  about  her,  and  forcibly  drew  her  away 
from  the  rail.  She  transferred  her  hand  to  his  arm, 
and  clung  to  that.  He  led  her  to  the  steep  stairs,  and 
then  lifted  her,  and  carried  her  down.  The  weight  was 
not  enough  to  account  for  his  staggering  step.  Contact 
with  that  limp  form  brought  home  to  him  the  cowardice 
of  his  act.    He  had  purchased  his  own  safety;  he  was  at 


FREE   TO    SERVE  iii 

liberty  to  go  where  he  would,  and  to  win  fortune  in  this 
land ;  and  he  had  made  her  the  price  of  his  freedom. 
It  was  the  work  of  a  scoundrel,  and  he  had  never  meant 
to  be  a  scoundrel.  Over  on  the  other  side  of  the  sea, 
when  he  had  that  long  talk  with  the  master  of  the 
"  Bullfinch,"  the  plan  had  seemed  the  best  under  the 
circumstances.  Now  that  it  had  failed,  he  could  see 
the  criminal  folly  of  it. 

"  Aveline,  say  that  you  forgive  me." 

He  was  bending  over  her  as  she  lay  in  her  bed.  He 
had  placed  her  there  without  opposition  on  her  part. 
She  looked  at  him  as  if  trying  to  take  in  the  meaning  of 
his  words. 

"  You  will  not  get  back  in  time,"  she  said,  the  thought 
that  possessed  her  finding  expression. 

"  I  shall.  I  will,  if  mortal  power  can  accomplish  it," 
he  cried. 

"You  must  not  go  until  you  have  found  out  just  what 
it  means,"  she  continued,  "  what  it  is  to  be  a  bond- 
servant. I  want  to  understand  —  to  know  exactly  what 
is  before  me."  Her  voice  had  grown  firmer.  "  It  is 
easier  to  face  anything  you  know,  even  when  it  is  terrible, 
than  to  meet  an  evil  that  to  you  has  no  limit." 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  face  it,"  said  Fulke  desperately. 
"  In  all  probability  it  will  never  come." 

"I  cannot  help  it.  I  think  about  it,  and  picture 
horrors  that  —  perhaps  —  do  not  exist." 

"  You  would  be  better  not  to  think  at  all,"  he  said. 
"  There  is  every  likelihood  that  I  shall  be  back  before 
anything  happens." 

"But  you  will  find  out  —  what  steps  will  be  taken, 
and  what  will  be  the  result?  Don't  stop  till  you  know 
the  worst.     It  is  no  use  putting  it  off  now." 

He  looked  at  her  steadily.  Facing  the  worst  was 
exactly  what  he  did  not  wish  to  do.  But  he  promised. 
And  very  much  against  his  own  inclination  he  put  his 


112  FREE    TO    SERVE 

promise  into  action  that  same  day.  For  his  sister's 
sake  he  forced  himself  to  talk  quietly  with  the  captain. 

"What  am  I  goin'  to  do?"  replied  the  ship-master. 
"  Nothin'  but  what's  right  and  honest.  I'll  be  as  kind 
to  the  girl  as  I  can.  There  ain't  no  great  hardship  in 
puttin'  up  a  notice  or  two  in  the  city  that  the  service 
of  a  girl  of — how  old  is  the  lass?  " 

"  Not  yet  eighteen,"  responded  Fulke,  with  a  groan. 

"  That  the  service  of  a  lass  of  eighteen  is  for  sale. 
That's  all  there'll  be  to  do  at  the  start.  When  a  pur- 
chaser comes,  you  may  rely  on  me  to  do  the  best  I  can. 
The  higher  the  price  I  get  for  her  service,  the  fewer  the 
years  she  will  have  to  serve  to  cover  my  money.  I'll 
bargain  for  a  good  home  for  her,  and  bind  her  mistress 
hard  and  fast  to  behave  right  by  her.  That's  what  I'm 
goin'  to  do,  and  if  you  ain't  satisfied  with  that,  you've 
only  got  yourself  to  blame." 

The  thought  of  Aveline  kept  back  the  hasty  words 
that  rose  to  the  young  man's  lips.  He  even  conde- 
scended to  ask  advice  as  to  the  best  way  of  finding 
Roger  Bennet.  With  the  consequences  of  his  mis- 
management before  him,  he  could  not  rely  as  con- 
fidently as  usual  on  his  own  wisdom.  The  only  hope 
for  his  sister  lay  in  the  speedy  meeting  with  his  new 
partner.  He  set  frantically  about  the  task  of  superin- 
tending the  removal  of  the  merchandise  to  the  waiting 
sloop,  in  his  haste  even  going  to  the  length  of  transfer- 
ring some  of  it  with  his  own  hands.  Anything  was  bet- 
ter than  sitting  still  and  watching  Aveline.  The  girl 
had  recovered  so  far  as  to  be  on  deck  again,  but  the 
slowly  dragging  footstep  was  so  unlike  her  light,  quick 
tread  that  he  never  heard  it  approach  without  feeling  a 
sharp  sting  of  remorse. 

It  was  the  night  before  the  sloop  sailed,  Fulke  was 
standing  with  one  of  Aveline's  hands  in  his.  He  had 
drawn  her  close  to  him,  and  she  had  laid  her  head  on  his 


FREE    TO    SERVE  113 

shoulder.  The  fear  of  losing  her  was  stirring  in  his 
heart.     When  he  returned,  would  she  be  here? 

*'  Aveline,  I  shall  never  forgive  myself,"  he  said,  and  she 
felt  the  heavy  breath  that  was  almost  a  sob.  "  There's 
one  thing  about  it:  they  are  all  justified  at  home  now. 
I   have  turned  out  as  bad  as  they  predicted." 

"  Poor  boy  !  "  she  said  gently.  All  the  hardness  had 
gone  from  her  voice.  "You  will  have  the  chance  to 
disappoint  them  yet." 

"  Yes,  and  I  have  bought  it  by  taking  every  chance 
away  from  you,"  he  said  passionately. 

"  Then  make  the  better  use  of  it,"  she  replied. 

She  had  never  seen  him  quite  as  penitent  before.  He 
even  refrained  from  finding  excuse  for  himself.  In  the 
face  of  the  evil  he  had  wrought,  he  was  silent.  He 
hovered  round  Aveline,  afraid  to  take  the  final  step  that 
should  leave  her  alone  to  meet  the  danger.  Even  after 
he  had  gone  on  board  the  sloop  he  made  an  excuse  to 
return.  It  was  only  to  strain  her  to  him  and  whisper, 
"  Courage,  dear.  I'll  be  back  before  it  is  too  late,"  and 
to  say  to  the  ship-master,  "  Put  it  off  to  the  last  moment 
possible.  If  you  keep  her  safe  for  me,  I'll  make  it  worth 
your  while  on  my  return." 

When  he  was  gone  Aveline  began  to  count  the  days, 
staying  her  heart  with  the  hope  that  help  would  come 
in  time,  and  holding  on  to  every  one  of  the  five  times 
twenty-four  hours  that  were  hers  of  a  certainty.  Beyond 
them  lay  an  interval  in  which  she  must  hold  herself  ready 
to  exhibit  her  attainments  and  qualifications  for  service 
to  any  would-be  purchaser  of  the  same,  and  further  ahead 
still  —  Fulke,  or  bondage. 

She  took  to  watching  the  winds  closely,  greedily  drink- 
ing in  the  breath  of  the  south  breeze,  turning  her  face 
towards  it,  and  blessing  the  rough  playfulness  with  which 
it  made  free  with  her  person.  She  saw  some  small  sail- 
ing craft  spread  their  sails  and  race  past  before  it  in  the 


114  FREE   TO    SERVE 

direction  in  which  her  brother  had  gone,  and  she  took 
heart,  and  sent  a  thought  to  the  future  that  lay  on  the 
further  side  of  this  interval  of  fear.  But  when  the  w^ind 
sank  to  a  dead  calm,  her  heart  felt  dead  too ;  dead,  but 
full  of  unrest,  like  a  soul  that  has  lost  the  body,  and 
found  no  renewal  of  life.  She  would  pace  up  and  down 
the  deck,  in  the  still  July  air,  oppressed  with  a  feeling 
of  suffocation.  Usually  she  sat  with  her  face  turned 
seaward,  gazing  wistfully  across  the  water  to  the  quarter 
where  lay  home  and  safety.  Of  what  lay  landward  she 
tried  not  to  think.  It  took  all  her  courage  to  meet  the 
fears  of  each  day. 

When  strangers  came  aboard  she  took  refuge  in  her 
cabin  from  their  curious  glances,  for  the  consciousness 
was  always  present  that  before  long  they  would  see  her 
name  posted  in  some  conspicuous  place,  and  would  re- 
member that  they  had  already  cast  eyes  on  this  stranger 
in  their  midst,  who  was  waiting  their  will,  or  the  will  of 
some  other  who  could  afford  to  pay  the  money  which 
should  make  her  his  bond-servant. 

There  was  no  apparent  change  in  her  when  the  days 
of  grace  were  ended,  only,  every  morning,  when  the 
light  crept  in  through  the  porthole,  she  steeled  herself  to 
bear  the  possible  shock,  and  every  night,  when  the  city 
had  grown  as  still  as  her  own  Eastenholme,  she  recorded 
one  more  day  of  danger  passed.  The  captain  never 
returned  from  a  walk  on  shore  without  being  aware  that 
her  eyes,  which  had  grown  deep  and  dark  with  longing, 
were  searching  his  face  to  find  what  they  most  dreaded  to 
see.  At  every  return  she  was  looking  for  confirmation 
of  her  fears. 

It  was  on  the  afternoon  of  the  fourth  day,  when  she 
was  sitting  in  her  usual  position,  looking  out  to  sea,  that 
she  heard  the  ship-master's  step,  and  turned  in  time  to 
meet  his  eye,  and  catch  an  expression  on  his  face  that  had 
not  been  there  before.     He  walked  away  abruptly,  and 


FREE   TO    SERVE  115 

assiduously  employed  himself  in  another  direction,  but 
his  movements  were  too  studiedly  unconcerned  to  set 
her  mind  at  rest.  He  did  not  approach  her  again,  nor 
appear  to  notice  her,  but  that  night  she  did  not  count 
the  days  that  had  passed,  nor  congratulate  herself  on 
another  added  on  the  side  of  safety. 

She  was  not  surprised  when  the  captain  left  the  vessel 
early  in  the  following  forenoon,  nor  unprepared  for  his 
return  with  a  stranger.  She  did  not  rise,  as  was  her  rule, 
to  find  privacy  in  her  cabin.  She  sat  still,  awaiting  his 
approach,  for  she  was  sure  he  would  approach.  Even 
in  the  agitation  of  that  moment  she  was  astonished  to  see 
that  his  companion  was  a  man,  young  and  well-dressed, 
though  not  of  the  type  of  any  of  the  young  men  she  had 
seen  before.  He  was  not  a  beau,  after  the  fashion  of 
her  brother,  nor  did  he  resemble  the  young  sons  of 
country  squires  who  resided  near  Eastenholme.  He  was 
no  working-man,  in  the  sense  in  which  Aveline  used  the 
term,  yet  he  looked  as  if  he  could  guide  the  plough  or 
wield  the  axe  with  the  best  of  that  class.  So  much 
Aveline  learned  at  a  glance  ;  then  her  eyes  went  seaward 
again,  while  she  fought  against  the  deadly  fear  that  over- 
powered her. 

There  was  no  trace  of  it  when  she  turned  at  the  cap- 
tain's greeting. 

"  I  have  brought  you  a  visitor,  my  lass,"  he  said, 
"  one  that,  maybe,  you'll  not  be  over-pleased  to  see." 

Aveline  rose  slowly  and  stood  before  them,  her  face 
white  and  haughty,  yet  touching  enough  in  its  forced 
calmness  to  drive  the  speech  from  the  lips  of  young 
Geysbert  Feljer,  as  he  essayed  to  make  the  acquaintance 
of  the  serving-maid  he  had  come  to  inspect.  It  could 
not  be  said  that  he  altogether  failed  in  the  inspection, 
for  if  his  tongue  refused  its  office,  his  eyes  made  up  for 
the  defection.     The  captain  also  had  become  slow  of 


ii6  FREE   TO    SERVE 

speech.      The    two    men   stood    before   the   girl  silent, 
while  she  waited  for  them  to  speak. 

"  There  is  the  lass,  and  I'll  wager  the  like  of  her  will 
never  fall  in  your  way  again,"  said  the  ship-master  at 
length.  "  Young  maids  of  her  stamp  don't  come  over 
in  every  ship." 

"  My  mother  is  in  need  of  a  serving-maid,"  said  the 
young  man,  addressing  Aveline  in  a  voice  that  was  not 
ill-pleasing.  She  could  not  complain  that  the  tone  was 
lacking  in  respect. 

Aveline  inclined  her  head. 

"  Captain  Crandal  tells  me  that  you  —  that  your  ser- 
vices are  at  his  disposal." 

"  He  speaks  truly,"  was  the  answer,  given  in  a  calm, 
proud  voice. 

"  I  could  wish  that  my  mother  had  been  here  to  talk 
with  you  herself,"  continued  the  young  man.  '*  Doubt- 
less it  would  have  been  more  satisfactory  to  both.  But 
she  is  now  at  the  manor  house,  and  I  must  even  de- 
cide  for  her," 

"  Would  it  be  impossible  to  communicate  with  her 
before  you  come  to  a  decision?"  asked  Aveline.  "I 
would  fain  gain  time  before  I  am  bound  to  service.  In 
a  week  my  brother  will  probably  return,  and  then  it 
may  be  unnecessary  that  such  a  step  should  be  taken. 
Yet  I  would  not  defraud  Captain  Crandal  of  that  which 
is  his  just  right,  by  unduly  putting  hindrance  in  the  way 
of  an  arrangement,"  she  hastened  to  add. 

"  Nay,  nay,  my  girl,  I'm  not  afraid  you'd  do  aught 
but  what  was  fair.  If  everybody  was  as  honest,  there'd 
be  naught  to  say,"  broke  in  the  ship-master,  in  a  voice 
which  sought  to  make  up  in  sound  what  it  lacked  in 
ease.  "  There's  no  need  to  be  in  haste,  but  it  will  do  no 
harm  for  you  to  look  at  one  another,  and  this  young  man 
can  take  stock  of  the  bargain  he  is  like  to  get,  supposin' 
it  doesn't  slip  through  his  fingers  in  the  meantime." 


FREE    TO    SERVE  117 

The  stranger  hesitated. 

"  There  would  not  be  time  to  hear  from  my  mother," 
he  said.  "  I  have  only  a  few  days  left  to  stay  in  the 
city.  By  the  look  of  things  I  think  it  would  be  wiser 
to  return  without  the  maid.  To  serve  one  woman  at 
the  expense  of  another  is  to  add  little  to  the  sum  of 
happiness." 

The  face  of  the  ship-master  clouded. 

"  There  will  be  others  who  will  be  less  scrupulous," 
he  said  bluntly. 

"  Nay,  sir,  I  would  not  have  you  think  entirely  of 
me,"  interrupted  Aveline.  "  I  wish  to  do  that  which  is 
right.  The  money  is  due  to  Captain  Crandal,  and  he 
is  anxious  to  secure  it.  But  if  you  could  give  me  time 
—  leave  the  matter  unsettled  as  long  as  possible  —  it 
would  be  a  great  boon." 

"  I  will  do  that  willingly  enough,"  was  the  answer. 
"  But  the  thing  is  not  altogether  at  my  disposal.  I  go 
up  the  river  with  the  next  sloop,  and  that  will  be  in  five 
or  six  days  at  most.  What  I  don't  take  with  me  then 
must  be  left  behind  for  good." 

"  You'll  be  leavin'  behind  a  bargain  that  won't  go 
beggin'  long,"  said  the  captain  testily.  "  But  take 
your  own  way.  I  sail  myself  in  a  week  from  to- 
morrow." 

"  I  don't  deny  the  bargain,"  was  the  rejoinder.  "  Yet, 
if  I  had  known,  I  doubt  whether  I  should  have  sought 
it.  My  mother  has  long  spoken  of  securing  the  service 
of  a  white  maid,  and  your  notice  made  me  think  that  her 
wish  might  perchance  be  gratified.  We  have  slaves  in 
plenty,  but  she  desires  to  have  with  her  a  strong,  useful 
wench,  who  should  serve  about  her  own  person,  and  be 
trained  by  her  to  oversee  the  ways  of  the  household.  I 
doubt  whether  she  had  in  mind  a  —  a  maiden  such  as 
this.  Yet  the  exchange  may  prove  a  good  one.  Were 
I  making  the  choice  for  myself,  I  think  I  should  under- 


ii8  FREE   TO    SERVE 

stand  the  points  better,"  he  added,  with  an  unmistak- 
able look  of  admiration. 

"  Well,  young  man,  as  far  as  I  can  see  through  it,  your 
good  mother  wants  exactly  what  I  can  supply  her  with," 
said  the  ship-master,  "The  lass  is  not  fit  for  rough  ser- 
vice—  I  grant  you  that.  But  the  service  you  need  is 
precisely  what  she  can  render.  You  told  me  yourself, 
my  lass,"  he  continued,  turning  to  Aveline,  "  that  the 
superintendence  of  the  wenches  was  not  beyond  your 
powers?  " 

"  True,"  said  Aveline,  "  I  am  not  unaccustomed  to 
the  care  of  a  house.  The  maids  at  home  are  well- 
trained,  but  they  need  a  guiding  hand,  and  under  my 
aunt's  direction  I  have  had  experience  that  should  make 
me  of  use  in  the  overseeing  of  a  household." 

The  young  man  looked  at  her  curiously,  but  his  hes- 
itation was  gone. 

"  Look  here,  Crandal,"  he  said.  "If  anybody  takes 
her,  I  do.  That  much  you  may  consider  settled.  We'll 
arrange  the  terms  between  us,  and  then  let  it  rest.  The 
day  before  the  yacht  sails  I'll  see  you  again.  If  she 
then  desire  to  engage  with  me,  she  can ;  if  not,  my 
mother  can  very  well  await  another  opportunity." 

They  went  away  together,  but  not  before  a  word  or 
two  of  low-spoken  thanks  had  repaid  the  kindness  the 
young  man  felt  peculiarly  willing  to  shew.  He  found 
himself  becoming  momentarily  more  eager  to  secure 
this  serving-maid  for  his  mother,  and  the  captain  had 
little  difficulty  in  making  a  satisfactory  bargain. 

As  soon  as  they  had  left  her  Aveline  went  below. 
Her  step  was  firm,  and  her  brain  clear.  It  had  come  — 
the  thing  she  had  dreaded.  She  possessed  herself  no 
longer.  At  that  very  moment  the  captain  was  selling, 
and  this  stranger  was  buying,  her  freedom.  True,  there 
were  five  days  before  the  sale  would  be  consummated,  five 
days  in  which  to  let  hope  and  fear  struggle  together,  and 


FREE   TO   SERVE  119 

one  or  other  die  a  violent  death.  Bond-service  looked 
very  near  and  very  real  at  last.  It  had  overtaken  her, 
and  she  was  looking  it  in  the  face.  The  vagueness  had 
gone  from  it,  and  it  had  become  a  definite  thing,  but 
with  the  coming  of  the  reality  the  indefinable  horror 
had  fled  from  it.  It  was  a  sorrow,  a  bitter  pain  and 
humiliation,  but  it  was  a  thing  to  be  borne. 


I20  FREE   TO   SERVE 


CHAPTER   XIII 

HO  !      Put  back  there  !      Ho  !      Hendricksen  !  " 
The  sloop  on  which  Fulke  had  embarked  was 
already  in  mid-stream,  with  wind  and  tide  in  her 
favour.     The  skipper  looked  back  towards  the  slip,  and  a 
broad  grin  illumined  his  face. 

"  Hi,  you  !  You'd  better  hurry.  We're  going  up 
with  the  tide,"  he  called. 

The  youth  he  addressed  was  the  foremost  of  three. 
He  had  come  to  a  stand  at  the  edge  of  the  slip,  while 
the  other  two  were  yet  stretching  their  legs  in  the  effort 
to  lessen  the  space  between  them  and  the  river. 

"  Put  about  and  take  us  aboard,"  cried  the  spokesman 
imperatively. 

"  Not  I.  You'll  have  to  row  for  it,"  shouted  the 
skipper,  putting  his  hands  to  his  mouth,  and  causing  his 
lungs  to  do  duty  in  a  manner  that  sent  the  sound  well 
out  across  the  water. 

"  Put  back,  or  we'll  make  you  roar  for  it,"  called  the 
youth. 

"  All  right.  There'll  soon  be  distance  enough  between 
us  to  make  roaring  a  necessity,"  replied  the  skipper. 

The  belated  passengers  looked  after  the  retreating 
sloop,  and  then  hurried  along  the  bank  of  the  river  and 
jumped  into  a  boat.  It  required  some  exercise  of 
muscle  to  reduce  the  distance  between  the  boat  and  the 
sloop,  though  the  skipper  presently  shortened  sail  out 
of  consideration  for  the  pursuers.  His  broad  face  grew 
broader  with  merriment  as  the  boat  came  alongside. 

"What  means  this  unseemly  haste?  I  swear  we 
were  not  more  than  an  hour  behind  the  prearranged 
sailing  time,"  cried  one  of  the  three,  by  way  of  salutation. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  121 

They  scrambled  on  deck,  their  first  business  a  survey 
of  the  passengers,  with  most  of  whom  they  appeared 
more  or  less  familiar.  Fulke  held  himself  aloof.  He 
was  in  no  mood  for  the  making  of  new  acquaintances, 
and  the  noisy  hilarity  of  the  travellers  grated  upon 
him.  The  late-comers,  having  exchanged  greetings 
with  the  company,  stood  so  near  to  his  elbow  that  he 
could  hear  every  word  they  spoke.  Not  that  he  was 
much  the  wiser  for  the  hearing,  since  the  conversation 
was  carried  on  in  Dutch,  of  which  language  he  knew 
nothing. 

"A  pretty  young  man,"  began  the  most  youthful  of 
the  three,  without  looking  in  Fulke's  direction. 

"  Pretty,  do  you  say?  He  looks  savage  enough  to 
put  the  scalps  of  the  wild  men  in  danger.  I  shall  take 
the  first  opportunity  to  warn  my  friends  among  the 
braves  to  look  out  for  the  mighty  hunter  of  scalps,  for 
he  is  in  their  midst,  with  a  frown  huge  enough  to  darken 
the  sunshine." 

"  Nay,  no  scalp-hunter  is  he.  The  dear  boy  is  suffer- 
ing from  an  aching  heart.  He  has  not  seen  his  mammy 
for  an  age,  and  his  eye  is  dark  with  unshed  tears,"  com- 
mented another. 

"  Who  is  he?  "   was  the  next  question. 

"Don't  know.     The  son  of  his  mother." 

"Where  is  he  going?     Esopus  or  Albany?" 

"  Ask  him,"  suggested  the  oldest  of  the  three. 

"Ask  him  yourself." 

"  Very  well.      I'm  willing." 

"  Look  out  for  your  scalp." 

The  young  man  left  his  friends,  and  took  a  step  for- 
ward . 

"  Do  you  disembark  at  Esopus,  or  go  right  on  by  the 
sloop?  "  he  asked,  addressing  Fulke  insufficiently  good 
English. 

"  I  am  bound  for  Albany,"  was  the  curt  reply. 


122  FREE   TO    SERVE 

"You  are?  Then  we  are  all  for  one  port.  Intend  to 
stay  long?  " 

"  Until  my  business  is  finished." 

"  Another  element  of  similarity,"  said  the  young  man, 
with  mock  seriousness.  "We  are  expecting  to  do  the 
same.  Only  as  our  business  usually  lies  in  the  northern 
portion  of  the  province,  it  is  not  liable  to  be  finished  at 
any  very  early  date.  Does  this  afford  a  further  point 
of  resemblance?" 

He  put  his  questions  in  the  gravest  possible  manner, 
looking  at  Fulke  placidly  the  while.  His  last  inquiry 
remaining  unanswered,  he  proposed  another. 

"Are  you  acquainted  with  any  one  in  our  city?"  he 
ventured. 

"  Which  do  you  call  your  city?  "  asked  Fulke  shortly. 

"  Albany,  my  good  friend.  The  city  of  the  fort,  and 
the  friend  of  the  Five  Nations.     Albany,  to  be  sure." 

"  In  that  case  you  can  possibly  tell  me  of  one  Roger 
Bennet,"  said  Fulke,  his  manner  growing  less  con- 
strained, and  a  trace  of  eagerness  appearing. 

"  Ho,  ho !  Now  we  are  coming  to  it.  We  have 
found  bait,"  said  the  young  man,  in  an  aside  to  his 
companions. 

"  Roger  Bennet?  And  are  you  a  friend  of  our  trader, 
Roger,"  he  added  in  English,  "  or  is  it  but  a  matter  of 
business  that  brings  you  hither  to  look  up  a  stranger?" 

"  Nay,  Roger  Bennet  is  no  stranger  to  mc,"  said 
Fulke.  "  But  of  his  present  whereabouts  I  am  ignorant. 
I  would  give  much  to  know  just  where  to  go  to  meet 
him." 

"It  cannot  —  nay  —  that  is  impossible,"  said  the 
other,  looking  long  and  critically  at  the   Englishman. 

"  What  is  impossible?  "  asked  Fulke. 

"  That  you  could  be  the  partner  of  whose  coming 
Roger  spoke.  A  partner  in  his  trading  ventures,  he  said, 
but  —  to  judge  by  your  appearance  —  " 


FREE   TO    SERVE  123 

"Who  asked  you  to  judge  by  my  appearance?" 
demanded  Fulke  testily.  "  Judging  by  your  appear- 
ance it  would  be  easy  to  deny  that  you  were  a  man  of 
sense,  yet  the  judgment  might  h^  incorrect." 

The  other  took  the  retort  good-naturedly. 

"  Then  I  am  to  infer  that  you  are  the  partner  of 
Roger  Bennet?  "   he  said. 

"  You  can  infer  what  you  like,"  was  the  answer.  "  It 
won't  alter  the  fact,  nor  make  me  less  or  more  his  part- 
ner. I  expected  to  meet  Bennet  at  the  port  of  New 
York.      His  absence  is  exceedingly  unfortunate." 

"Ha!  Yes.  I  understand.  The  'Bullfinch'  was  in 
betimes.  Roger  was  not  expecting  her  for  a  week  or 
two  yet.  He  could  not  get  away  so  early  from  his  trad- 
ing. Since  you  are  yourself  a  trader,  of  course  you 
know  these  summer  months  are  the  time  in  which  the 
warriors  of  the  Five  Nations  seek  our  city  to  dispose  of 
their  pelts.  Our  traders  are  then  not  at  liberty  to  be 
gadding  abroad." 

"  Then  I  shall  surely  find  Roger  Bennet  at  Albany?" 
said  Fulke,  with  a  strong  sense  of  relief. 

"  Sure  is  not  the  word  for  the  movements  of  our  friend 
Roger,"  said  the  young  Dutchman.  "With  him  a  man 
is  sure  of  nothing  but  uncertainty.  He  had  but  a  few 
more  natives  to  expect  when  I  left  the  city.  If  they  have 
already  visited  him,  he  may  be  away  seeking  scattered 
bands,  for  he  trades  with  others  than  those  of  the  Five 
Nations.  These  seek  Albany,  as  a  rule,  but  those  have 
sometimes  to  be  sought,  and  Roger  is  not  a  man  to  lose 
trade.  It  was  the  impossibility  of  leaving  in  July  that 
kept  him  from  coming  to  see  about  his  cargo.  So  much 
I  know  from  his  own  lips." 

"  And  if  he  should  have  left  Albany,  will  it  be  easy  to 
find  him?"  asked  Fulke,  his  hopes  damped  by  the  ex- 
planation. 

"  Maybe  yes,  and  maybe    no.     What    do    you    say, 


124  FREE   TO    SERVE 

Claes?  What  will  be  the  movements  of  our  friend 
Roger  when  his  Albany  trading  is  over?" 

He  turned  to  another  of  the  young  men,  and  soon  the 
four  were  in  earnest  conversation.  Fulke  learned  more 
about  Indian  trading  than  he  had  expected  to  know  so 
soon,  but  he  learned  nothing  about  Roger  Bennet's 
movements  that  could  remove  the  uneasiness  from  his 
mind,  or  make  him  feel  less  of  a  culprit  than  when  he 
turned  his  back  on  his  sister,  and  left  her  to  face  alone 
the  result  of  his  folly. 

The  three  young  men  from  Albany  were  disposed  to 
pursue  the  acquaintance.  A  stranger  was  a  novelty, 
and  when  once  the  ice  was  broken  they  found  Fulke 
more  approachable  than  they  anticipated.  In  the  time 
that  followed,  the  acquaintance  ripened  into  intimacy, 
for  a  Hudson-river  sloop  was  not  big  enough  to  allow 
men  to  stand  off  very  far  from  one  another.  More- 
over, though  he  had  been  at  first  repelled  by  their  light 
merriment,  Fulke  found  his  companions  useful  in  rid- 
ding him  of  the  company  of  his  own  thoughts.  Their 
careless  hilarity  touched  a  chord  which  had  been  silent 
since  the  night  when  he  and  Wyville  quarrelled.  There 
was  a  waking  up  of  the  old  desire  for  excitement,  a  re- 
bound from  the  pressure  that  had  been  upon  him  for 
the  last  few  weeks.  He  had  not  escaped  his  fears,  but 
he  was  turning  his  back  upon  them,  and  trying  to  ignore 
them. 

The  voyage  was  a  slow  one,  and  while  the  sloop  lay 
becalmed,  Fulke  had  more  than  sufficient  opportunity 
to  go  ashore  and  inspect  the  land.  It  was  the  evening 
of  the  fifth  day  from  starting  when  the  vessel  cast  an- 
chor but  a  few  hours'  journey  from  Albany.  Wind  and 
tide  were  unfavourable,  and  the  skipper  was  cautious 
enough  to  wait  for  the  light. 

All  day  Fulke  had  been  running  away  from  the 
thought  that  the  limit  of  Aveline's  safety  was  reached, 


FREE   TO    SERVE  125 

that  to-night  ended  the  week  during  which  the  master 
of  the  "  Bullfinch  "  had  promised  to  remain  inactive. 
His  inward  uneasiness  drove  him  to  seek  diversion 
in  the  company  of  his  new  friends.  They  sat  late 
on  deck,  talking  and  joking,  but,  late  as  it  was, 
sleep  was  not  quick  in  coming  when  Fulke  turned  in. 
Would  Roger  Bennet  be  in  Albany?  And  if  not,  what 
then?  He  set  his  teeth  together  as  he  thought  of 
Captain  Crandal's  haste  to  be  gone,  and  of  his  deter- 
mination to  secure  his  money  before  he  sailed. 

Fulke  had  been  the  last  to  leave  the  deck,  and  he 
was  the  first  to  seek  it  again.  Here  he  had,  at  the 
least,  the  chance  of  escaping  communion  with  himself. 

"  Hullo,  Fulke  !  Come  to  rouse  up  that  laggard  of 
a  sun?  Your  eyes  look  constraining  enough  to  draw 
him  from  his  bed  a  full  hour  earlier  than  usual." 

Tunis  Halenbeeck  stuck  his  head  above  the  stairs, 
and  took  a  leisurely  survey  of  the  deck. 

"  Oh,  I'm  tired  to  death  of  this  sleepy  old  sloop. 
She's  crawled  up  here  like  a  snail.  Thank  goodness, 
there'll  be  something  to  do  beside  eating  and  sleeping 
when  we  get  to  Albany,"  said  Fulke. 

"  Wait  till  we're  there.  We'll  soon  give  you  a  taste 
of  life,  my  boy,"  responded  his  companion. 

"  I  doubt  not  there  will  be  life  enough  when  I  get 
clear  of  this  wretched  vessel,"  said  Fulke.  "  I  have 
myself  a  considerable  cargo  on  board,  to  the  unloading 
of  which  I  must  attend." 

"Ah!      Indian  goods?  " 

"  Principally." 

"And  they  are  consigned  to  —  whom?" 

"  Roger  Bennet." 

"  That  is  well.  It  may  save  trouble.  Our  city  is 
jealous  of  outsiders,  and  allows  no  stranger  to  inter- 
meddle with  her  trade  with  the  natives.  To  barter 
with  them  is  her  exclusive  privilege,  and  she  holds  to  it. 


126  FREE   TO   SERVE 

Roger  Bennet  is  of  ourselves.  He  resides  in  Albany, 
and  has  become  one  of  us." 

"  It  was  for  that  reason  the  cargo  was  put  in  his  name," 
said  Fulke.     "  He  said  that  it  would  be  wiser  thus  to  do." 

"  Aye,  and  he  was  right.  And  you  —  you  too  will 
have  to  be  one  of  us  if  you  would  become  an  Indian 
trader." 

"  I  am  willing,"  said  Fulke.  "  Roger  Bennet  averred 
that  he  could  arrange  it.  I  am  at  present  in  great  straits 
in  a  matter  about  which  I  must  see  Roger.  Afterwards 
I  shall  be  free  to  take  any  necessary  steps." 

"  That  is  —     Ah  !      Who  comes  yonder?  " 

Both  faced  about  to  get  a  better  view  of  a  canoe  that 
had  shot  into  sight,  half  a  mile  below  the  sloop. 

"  Some  one  that  wants  to  go  up  with  us,"  said  Tunis. 

The  sloop  was  about  to  make  sail,  and  the  occupants 
of  the  canoe  were  putting  forth  their  strength  to  come 
up  with  her  before  she  started. 

"  Pouwelyn  Swart  and  Arent  Segersen,  as  I  live," 
said  Tunis. 

Everybody  was  on  deck  by  this  time,  watching  the 
approaching  canoe.  As  it  came  alongside,  two  young 
men  scrambled  aboard  and  secured  the  boat. 

"  Thought  we  should  overtake  you,"  said  one.  "  Hullo, 
Tunis  !      Got  back  from  New  York?  " 

"  When  did  you  come  down?"  asked  Tunis. 

"  Yesterday." 

"  Then  you  can  possibly  tell  me  whether  Roger  Ben- 
net is  yet  in  Albany,"  said  Fulke.  He  was  in  a  fever  of 
impatience  to  know  his  fate  —  or,  rather,  Aveline's  fate. 

The  young  man  shook  his  head. 

"  Ten  days  too  late,"  he  said.  "  Roger  went  off  trad- 
ing that  long  ago." 

For  the  next  minute  Fulke  heard  nothing  of  the  talk 
that  went  on  around  him.  He  was  trying  to  collect  his 
senses,  and  gather  together  his  resources. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  127 

"  Do  you  know  in  what  direction  he  has  gone,  and 
how  soon  he  is  expected  to  return?" 

He  broke  in  on  the  conversation,  quite  unaware  that 
he  cut  short  an  interesting  item  of  news. 

"Who?  Oh,  Roger  Bennet.  I  don't  know  anything 
about  his  plans.     He's  a  little  close,  is  Roger." 

The  break  in  the  talk  closed  up  again,  and  the  gossip 
went  on. 

"  He  has?  Well  done,  RoelofF  Jansen  !  Deceived  us 
all,  for  once.  For  my  part,  I  could  have  sworn  he  was 
not  going  to  be  married  till  winter." 

There  was  more  talk,  and  loud  laughter.  Then  came 
an  outburst  of  merriment. 

"  Good  !  We'll  all  be  on  hand.  That's  too  good  a 
chance  of  fun  to  be  left  till  cold  weather." 

Then  they  lapsed  into  Dutch,  though,  if  Fulke  had 
been  listening,  he  might  have  heard  his  own  name.  He 
was  not  listening.  At  one  moment  he  was  wishing  him- 
self back  in  New  York,  cursing  his  folly  in  leaving  Aveline 
entirely  unprotected,  and  the  next  planning  a  rapid  pur- 
suit of  Roger  Bennet.  But  beneath  all  his  hastily  con- 
structed plans,  and  through  all  his  frantic  declarations 
that  he  would  accomplish  his  object  yet,  reason  was 
steadily  protesting  that  the  last  hope  was  gone. 

The  sloop  was  nearing  Albany.  The  company  of 
young  men  grew  more  hilarious. 

"  Come,  Fulke,"  said  one,  "  we  will  drink  to  your  luck 
on  our  shores,  though,  to  judge  by  your  face,  one  might 
think  that  you  and  luck  had  had  a  quarrel." 

"Truly  luck  is  a  delusion.  The  more  you  seek  it,  the 
closer  it  hides,"  said  Fulke. 

"  Cease  hunting  for  it,  and  take  a  good  draught  of  our 
cordial,  as  good  a  specimen  of  Jamaica  rum  as  skipper 
ever  stowed  away  for  cargo,"  replied  Tunis. 

They  drank  together  of  the  West  India  rum  that 
Albany  traders  found  potent  in  loosing  the  tight  grip  the 


128  FREE   TO    SERVE 

red  man  was  apt  to  keep  on  his  treasured  furs.  Fulke 
quaffed  it  greedily.  His  hand  shook.  A  desperate  fear, 
a  hunted  feehng,  as  of  one  who  has  come  to  his  last  re- 
source, and  dares  not  own  to  himself  that  there  is  noway 
to  turn,  was  assailing  him.  He  drank  every  drop  of  the 
fiery  liquid,  and  waited  eagerly  for  more.  When  he 
lifted  it  again  to  his  lips,  his  hand  closed  convulsively 
about  the  cup.  A  frantic  desire  for  something  that 
should  remove  this  overshadowing  dread,  and  give  him 
hope  even  though  no  hope  existed,  was  in  his  eagerness 
to  swallow  the  draught.  As  the  warm  drops  touched 
his  tongue,  they  seemed  to  have  potency  to  hold  him 
back  from  the  black  desolation  before  him. 

It  had  not  failed,  that  warm,  hope-imparting  draught. 
His  hand  was  growing  steady,  and  his  brain  returning 
to  its  duty.  Now  he  could  think  again.  He  turned  to 
the  young  men,  addressing  them  as  a  whole. 

"  If  any  of  you  could  help  me  to  find  Roger  Bennet, 
you  would  be  doing  me  a  vast  favour,  and  putting  me 
under  an  everlasting  obligation,"  he  said. 

"  If  there's  a  man  on  earth  that  can  tell  you  of  Roger's 
whereabouts,  it  is  Volkert  Klaerbout,"  said  one  of  the 
latest  comers.  "  He  will  be  in  the  city  to-night,  for 
certain.     Better  wait  till  you  can  see  him." 

"  We'll  get  him  to  join  us,"  said  another. 

"  The  very  thing.  Then  you'll  be  sure  of  him.  Trust 
Volkert  for  missing  a  frolic.  Fulke,  we  want  you  to 
reserve  yourself  for  us  to-night,"  said  Tunis  Halenbeeck. 
"  We've  a  little  frolic  on  hand,  a  distinctive  bit  of  Albany 
sport,  and  we  want  you  for  our  guest.  You  London 
fellows  think  you  know  all  about  fun,  I  doubt  not,  but 
I'll  wager  you've  never  been  in  as  pretty  a  piece  of  fun 
as  this.  True,  it  is  best  enjoyed  in  winter,  and  is  now 
sport  out  of  season,  but  if  folks  will  go  and  get  married 
suddenly,  and  set  up  housekeeping  in  the  summer,  we 
must  stretch  a  point  in  their  favour." 


FREE   TO    SERVE  129 

"  Nay,  till  I  have  seen  Roger  I  have  neither  heart  nor 
time  for  sport,"  said  Fulke. 

"  Hang  Roger  i  You'll  not  find  him  the  quicker  for 
prating  his  name  from  morn  till  night.  Your  best  way 
of  finding  him  is  to  come  with  us.  There  you  will  meet 
with  Volkert  Klaerbout,  and  when  our  sport  is  well 
under  way,  and  supper  is  in  prospect,  we  will  discuss  the 
best  means  of  going  in  search  of  him.  You  may  trust 
me  there  is  no  better  way." 

Fulke  hesitated.  He  cared  nothing  at  that  moment 
for  their  fun,  but  anything  was  better  than  waiting  idly 
for  the  morrow.  He  was  alone  in  the  city,  and  its  ways 
were  strange  to  him.  Without  some  help,  his  chances 
of  speedily  finding  Roger  Bennet  were  small. 

"  Come,  give  us  your  promise.  Throw  off  care  and 
trust  to  chance.  Roger  will  be  found  none  the  sooner 
for  seeking  him  with  a  long  face." 

Fulke  wavered  Throw  off  care!  Why  not?  If  noth- 
ing could  be  done  that  day,  he  might  as  well  throw 
off  care  as  carry  it.  Carry  it !  He  had  carried  it  till 
he  was  weighed  down,  spent  with  the  effort.  And  what 
had  he  accomplished?  Who  could  tell  whether,  when 
night  came,  and  tongues  were  loosened,  when  men 
grew  friendly  over  the  feast,  he  might  not  find  a  chance 
to  enlist  one  or  other  of  his  new  acquaintances  on  his 
side?  He  might  even  borrow  —  but  here  he  stopped. 
His  pride  was  up  at  arms  against  asking  strangers  for 
such  help.     And  yet,  for  Aveline's  sake  — 

He  would  let  the  matter  rest.  But  he  would  accept 
the  invitation,  and  if  he  accepted,  he  would  be  no  kill- 
joy. He  zvoiild  throw  off  care.  There  was  that  to  be 
had  which  would  make  it  possible. 


I30  FREE   TO    SERVE 


CHAPTER    XIV 

IT  was  a  hot  July  evening,  and  Albany  was  in  its 
usual  evening  position — outside  its  doors.  The 
town  cows  had  come  home  —  unattended,  for  Albany 
cows  of  the  year  1701  had  imbibed  too  thoroughly  the 
self-helpful  character  of  their  colonial  surroundings  to 
need  the  assistance  of  a  driver  to  bring  them  to  their 
respective  milking  stations.  They  had  started  in  a 
long  straggling  line  from  the  common  pasture  outside 
the  town,  and  the  tinkling  of  their  bells  had  warned 
their  owners  that  they  were  ready  to  be  milked.  No 
good  hausvrouw,  however,  had  felt  it  incumbent  upon 
her  to  look  after  any  one  of  them.  It  would  have  been 
an  entirely  unnecessary  proceeding.  Every  good  Albany 
cow  stopped  in  a  sensible  manner  at  the  tree  which  over- 
shadowed the  front  porch  of  the  particular  dwelling  to 
which  she  belonged,  and  began  critically  to  crop  the 
grass  that  grew  along  the  street,  turning  her  head  lazily 
as  one  and  another  of  her  companions  passed  beyond 
her  in  sedate  march  to  some  other  tree  by  some  other 
door.  Since  well-nigh  every  house  in  Albany  possessed 
a  cow,  and  every  cow  could  lay  rightful  claim  to  a  tree, 
and  every  tree  sheltered  a  porch,  there  was  a  long  line 
of  cows,  under  a  long  line  of  trees,  in  the  long  street 
that  lay  parallel  with  the  water,  and  from  which  the 
gardens  sloped  back  almost  to  the  river's  bank. 

The  musical  sound  of  the  milk  falling  into  the  re- 
spective pails  had  long  ago  ceased,  and  now  the  city 
cows  were  contemplatively  chewing  the  cud,  and  taking 
part  in  the  general  reunion,  for  old  and  young  Albany 
occupied  the  seats  around  the  stoops,  in  close  proximity 


FREE   TO    SERVE  131 

to  the  overshadowing  trees,  and  friendly  converse,  in- 
formal and  unrestrained,  took  the  place  of  the  day's 
labours. 

Nobody  was  in  a  hurry  to  bring  the  resting  time  to 
an  end ;  that  is,  none  but  a  certain  company  of  young 
men,  who  were  in  haste  to  carry  out  a  little  plan  of  their 
own,  in  which  the  silence  of  night  was  an  essential 
element.  But  the  evening  was  drawing  on,  and  the 
moon  was  about  to  set  a  good  example  and  retire  for 
the  night,  warning  honest  citizens  to  go  to  bed.  One 
by  one  the  seats  upon  the  stoops  emptied,  and  porch 
after  porch  settled  into  quietude. 

Along  the  river,  at  the  back  of  the  houses,  the  still- 
ness of  night  prevailed,  or  seemed  to  prevail.  If  one 
had  hstened  carefully  he  might  have  heard  a  footfall  now 
and  again,  and  once  or  twice  his  ear  would  have  been 
greeted  by  a  smothered  laugh. 

"The  turkeys  won't  be  in  as  prime  a  condition  as  if  we'd 
waited  for  winter,  but  Roeloff's  anger  will  well  pay  for 
the  loss  of  turkey  flesh,"  said  a  voice  out  of  the  darkness. 

"  He'd  be  on  the  lookout  then,  but  now  he'll  be  as 
unsuspicious  as  a  baby  till  he  finds  his  best  bird  miss- 
ing, and  knows  we  have  had  a  fine  supper  at  his 
expense,"  was  the  chuckling  response. 

"  Look  out,  Fulke  !  "  said  a  voice  that  broke  the 
silence  again.  "  There's  a  post  there.  Here  we  are. 
Next  garden  belongs  to  Roelofif.  Now  for  sport,  and 
the  exercise  of  skill." 

The  speaker  emerged  into  a  more  open  space,  and 
the  light  of  the  stars  disclosed  a  figure  not  unlike  that 
of  Tunis  Halenbeeck.  Three  other  youths  were  there, 
but  they  kept  in  the  shadow. 

"  Now  look  alive  !  " 

Four  pairs  of  legs  climbed  the  fence  that  surrounded 
the  garden,  and  four  figures  crept  stealthily  up  towards 
the  outbuildings  belonging  to  a  house  from  which  the 


132  FREE   TO    SERVE 

lights  were  disappearing.     Only  one  burned  when  they 
reached  the  end  of  the  garden. 

"  Here's  Pomp  coming  to  see  to  things  for  the  night, 
and  make  sure  the  turkeys  are  safe,  always  provided 
Roeloff's  got  any  turkeys  here  at  this  time  in  the  year," 
said  Tunis.  "  Now,  Fulke,  you  and  I  will  make  the 
venture  together.  You  understand?  A  }'oung  pig,  or 
a  fat  turkey.  Anything  you  can  lay  your  hands  on 
quickly,  and  if  you're  caught,  you  take  what  you  get, 
and  say  nothing  about  it." 

The  company  divided,  and  Fulke  and  his  companion 
lay  low  in  the  shadow,  watching  their  opportunity  to  slip 
into  one  of  the  buildings.  A  sturdy  negro,  carelessly 
swinging  a  lantern  in  which  a  tallow  candle  burned  with 
a  dim  light,  was  seen  advancing  towards  the  sheds. 
That  he  had  not  waited  for  the  legitimate  hour  to  begin 
his  night's  slumbers  was  evidenced  by  the  sleepy  move- 
ment with  which  he  fitted  a  key  into  the  lock  of  one 
of  the  doors. 

Of  all  the  buildings  belonging  to  his  master,  none 
were  locked  save  those  which  sheltered  the  turkeys  and 
the  pigs.  These  particular  possessions  were  acknowl- 
edged to  be  in  danger  up  here  in  the  small  city  of 
Albany.  They  had  enemies  alert  and  cunning.  Not 
the  red  men.  With  wild  birds  in  plenty  in  the  for- 
ests, these  had  no  designs  on  the  citizens'  poultry  or 
pigs.  The  danger  lay  less  in  greed  than  in  the  love  of 
sport.  These  members  of  the  animal  tribe  afforded 
scope  for  the  enjoyment  of  a  special  form  of  amusement 
that  derived  its  charm  from  its  peculiarly  risky  char- 
acter. Not  that  summer  was  the  chosen  season  for 
indulging  in  this  essentially  local  sport.  Winter  had 
always  been  the  critical  epoch  in  the  life  of  the  Albany 
turkey  and  roasting  pig.  But  there  are  occasions  when 
even  custom  may  be  expected  to  deviate  from  its  ordi- 
nary path ;  therefore  Roeloff  secured  his  doors. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  133 

For  this  young  man  had  married  a  wife,  thus  quitting 
the  ranks  of  Albany  bachelors,  and  his  pigs  and  his 
turkeys  were  fit  prey  for  the  youths  with  whom  he  had 
often  gone  turkey-hunting  around  forbidden  premises, 
but  whose  practices  he  had  abandoned  forever.  For 
him  the  sport  was  a  thing  of  the  past.  To  steal  out 
some  cold  dark  night,  and  prowl  round  a  luckless  house- 
holder's outbuildings  till  a  favourable  moment  gave 
access  to  pig-pen  or  turkey-roost,  and  then  to  seize 
turkey  or  young  pig,  and  with  it  creep  safely  away  to 
enjoy  the  stolen  dainty  at  a  city  tavern,  and  sit  far  into 
the  night  feasting  and  gloating  over  the  chagrin  of  the 
outwitted  fattener  of  the  feast,  was  to  be  his  happy  fate 
no  more.  As  a  married  man  he  had  abjured  such  juve- 
nile folly,  but  in  abjuring  it  he  had  transferred  himself 
from  the  ranks  of  the  turkey  catchers  to  those  of  the 
turkey  furnishers.  For  if  the  unmarried  men  of  Al- 
bany ate  turkeys  on  dark  nights,  the  householders  of 
Albany  fattened  the  turkeys  for  the  feast ;  and  as  a 
married  man  Roeloff  was  now  a  householder,  and  the 
owner  of  pigs  and  turkeys.  Nothing  was  more  likely 
than  that  an  early  visit  would  be  paid  him  —  hence  his 
precautions. 

Negro  and  lantern  disappeared  within  the  building. 
Only  a  faint  glimmer  shone  out  through  the  open  door. 

"  Now's  our  time,"  whispered  Tunis.  "  Follow  me, 
and  look  out." 

Fulke  could  have  obeyed  the  latter  injunction  better 
if  there  had  been  more  light.  He  made  a  blind  dash 
after  his  companion,  and  stumbled  into  a  deeper  darkness 
somewhere,  he  did  not  know  where.  Certain  unmistak- 
able evidences  of  the  proximity  of  that  indispensable 
colonial  possession,  the  pig,  greeted  the  intruders.  To 
make  assurance  doubly  sure,  a  genuine  grunt  was  heard. 

"  All  right,"  whispered  Fulke's  companion.  "We're 
in  luck.     I  can  hear  some  juveniles  over  yonder.     A 


134  FREE   TO    SERVE 

good  roaster  is  what  we're  after,  and  we'll  have  it,  when 
that  rascal  Pomp's  out  of  the  road." 

Pomp  was  to  all  appearance  in  no  hurry.  The  lantern 
he  had  hung  on  a  post  threw  a  weird  light  on  his  dark 
features.  The  long  shadows  advanced  and  retreated  as 
the  negro  changed  his  own  or  his  light's  position.  Once 
or  twice  he  came  dangerously  near  the  boards  and  casks 
that  sheltered  the  watchers.  Pomp  was  a  young  man, 
as  young  as  the  master  he  served,  and  the  youths  who 
were  hiding  near  him.  He  was  young  enough  to  enter 
into  the  spirit  of  a  piece  of  mischief,  and  just  now  there 
was  in  his  eye  a  twinkle  that  was  not  called  forth  by  the 
healthy  specimens  of  the  pork  family  to  which  he  was 
ministering.  He  was  surely  unduly  long  about  his  task, 
and  unusually  solicitous  for  the  welfare  of  his  charges, 
for  after  every  possible  duty  was  done,  he  stood  leaning 
over  the  rough  boards,  looking  down  into  the  pen,  with 
that  same  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"Ruin  take  the  rascal!  What's  he  stopping  for?" 
muttered  Tunis. 

The  negro  might  have  been  finishing  his  interrupted 
nap,  so  still  was  his  figure,  but  his  eyes  shone  with  that 
same  appreciative  light.  Pomp  was  surely  not  asleep. 
He  went  away  at  last,  carefully  and  ostentatiously  lock- 
ing the  door  behind  him,  but  to  the  disgust  of  two  other 
watchers  without,  he  opened  no  more  doors.  If  there 
were  turkeys  on  Roeloft"  Jansen's  premises,  they  were 
destined  to  stay  there  in  safety  that  night. 

"  Now's  our  opportunity,"  said  Tunis.  "  Thank  good- 
ness, the  fellow's  gone  at  last !  " 

To  select  a  pig  in  the  dark,  and  forcibly  persuade 
the  same  to  leave  the  bosom  of  its  family  and  allow 
itself  to  be  hoisted  over  the  high  boards  which  fenced 
it  in,  was  an  undertaking  that  demanded  dexterity. 

Fulke  grew  momentarily  wiser  on  the  subject  of  the  mus- 
cular and  vocal  powers  of  that  little-appreciated  animal. 


FREE   TO   SERVE  135 

"  Do  you  always  earn  your  suppers  as  hard  as  this 
before  you  have  them?  "  he  asked,  as  he  straightened 
himself  for  a  greater  effort.  "  Truly,  it  may  be  a  good 
winter  occupation." 

They  bent  again  to  the  task,  and  lifted  the  squealing 
youngster  over  the  pen. 

"  Here,  hold  on  to  him  a  minute,  while  I  put  this 
sack  over  him  to  deaden  his    screeches,"  said  Tunis. 

Fulke  essayed  to  "  hold  on,"  and  the  pig  endeav- 
oured to  make  off.  It  was  a  trial  of  strength  that  bade 
fair  to  leave  victory  on  the  side  of  the  quadruped. 

"  Hold  on  !  Don't  let  him  go,  or  we  shall  be  chasing 
our  supper  in  this  dark  hole  for  an  hour,"  cried  Tunis. 

Fulke  endeavoured  to  get  a  firmer  hold  of  the  ani- 
mal's hind  legs,  and  Tunis  stooped  to  draw  the  sack 
over  the  squealing  victim's  head.  At  that  critical  mo- 
ment the  door  of  the  building  was  swung  open  wide, 
and  the  owner  of  the  prospective  supper  appeared  in 
the  doorway,  holding  his  lantern  high,  that  its  rays 
might  penetrate  the  interior. 

"  Horrors  !  We're  caught.  Quick,  Fulke  !  Up  with 
you  on  that  partition.     There's  a  trap-door  above." 

Tunis  had  grasped  the  front  legs  of  the  pig  as  he 
spoke.  Now  he  darted  behind  the  casks,  and  in  a 
moment  was  on  the  partition,  intending  to  escape 
through  an  upper  window  to  one  of  the  other  roofs. 

"  Come  on  !     We'll  save  our  supper  yet." 

He  was  half-way  through  the  opening,  and  Fulke 
did  his  best  to  follow,  while  at  the  same  time  he  held 
on  to  the  hind  legs  of  the  wriggling,  struggling,  twist- 
ing specimen  of  the  pork  family.  Tunis  pulled  above, 
the  pig  jerked  between,  and  Fulke  hoisted  below.  It 
was  a  lively  time,  and  to  add  to  the  liveliness,  the 
owner  of  the  animal  advanced  to  the  rescue,  armed 
with  a  stick  that  looked  capable  of  becoming  an  im- 
portant factor  in  the  proceedings. 


136  FREE   TO    SERVE 

"  Drop  that  pig  !"  shouted  the  Dutchman,  in  a  voice 
suggestive  of  no  mean  bodily  strength. 

He  gave  another  proof  of  kistiness  in  the  resounding 
thwack  with  which  he  brought  his  weapon  across  the 
legs  just  within  reach,  on  the  top  of  the  partition. 
Fulke  had  full  proof  of  the  strength  of  a  Dutchman's 
arm,  and  the  solidity  of  a  Dutch  cudgel,  in  the  next 
moments.  The  low,  guttural  laugh  of  the  negro,  who 
was  standing  in  the  doorway  enjoying  the  success  of 
his  timely  warning,  was  especially  exasperating  to  him 
in  his  present  undignified  position.  He  made  a  frantic 
effort,  in  the  shape  of  a  mighty  spring,  and  had  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  one  leg  over  the  roof,  when,  unluckily, 
the  pig  also  nerved  himself  for  a  gigantic  effort.  The 
double  movement  was  too  much  for  Tunis,  standing 
under  the  sharply  sloping  roof  above.  It  jerked  the 
animal's  legs  out  of  his  grasp. 

"  Look  out!      He's  slipping,"   he  cried. 

A  sudden  rushing  sweep  of  soft  flesh,  and  the  pressure 
against  him  of  a  weight  that  bore  him  back  irresistibly, 
were  the  sensations  that  came  to  Fulke  with  his  com- 
panion's words.  Then  there  was  the  sound  of  a  thump 
on  the  floor  below,  a  frantic  momentary  effort  to  regain 
his  balance,  and  a  second  heavy  thud.  This  time  it  was 
not  the  pig  that  fell. 

"  Has  he  gone?  "  whispered  Tunis.  "  If  so,  come  on. 
We  can  slip  down  off  the  next  roof." 

The  only  answer  was  a  succession  of  sounding 
blows,  as  of  a  stout  stick  stoutly  used.  For  a  moment 
Fulke  lay  still,  stunned  by  the  fall  and  the  shower  of 
blows.  Then  he  realized  his  position,  and  in  a  strange 
fantastic  way  the  words  of  Tunis  darted  through  his 
brain. 

"  If  you  are  caught,  you  take  what  you  get."  He  was 
taking  it,  sure  enough. 

"  Pomp,  you   rascal,  come  here  and  hold  the  lantern. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  137 

so  that  I  can  see  to  give  this  fellow  an  appetite  for  his 
supper." 

The  words  were  in  Dutch,  and  the  speaker  never 
stopped  his  vigorous  wielding  of  the  stick,  while  Pomp, 
rolling  and  shaking  with  laughter,  advanced  and  raised 
the  lantern  from  the  floor,  where  his  master  had  hastily 
deposited  it.  Fulke  had  made  two  or  three  futile 
attempts  to  rise.  In  the  first  place,  the  Dutchman's  foot 
was  planted  firmly  on  his  victim,  and  in  the  next,  the 
sharp  pain  in  the  leg  that  was  doubled  under  him  warned 
Fulke  that  the  fall  had  cost  him  something  more  than  a  few 
bruises.  Now,  as  the  light  showed  the  face  of  his  cap- 
tor, he  made  another  desperate  effort,  and  partly  raised 
himself.     The  uplifted  arm  of  the  Dutchman  dropped. 

"Why,  in  the  name  of  wonder,  who  is  the  knave?" 
he  cried.     "  He's  not  one  of  us." 

"  One  of  you  !  The  fates  forbid  !  "  Fulke  burst  out 
wrathfully.  "  Of  all  the  ridiculous  pranks  to  invite  a 
stranger  to  share  in,  this  beats  the  lot.  Here,  if  you're 
satisfied  with  the  execution  you've  done  with  that  club, 
lend  me  your  hand.  We  can  fight  it  out  another  time. 
I  doubt  there's  mischief  enough  done  for  one  night." 

The  young  householder  drew  back  in  speechless  as- 
tonishment. He  had  expected  to  see  one  of  his  old 
cronies,  or  if  not  a  particular  associate,  at  least  a  resi- 
dent of  Albany,  But  this  intruder  was  a  stranger,  and 
by  his  speech  it  was  evident  he  was  not  a  Dutchman. 
Roeloff  had  wielded  his  weapon  manfully.  He  had  felt 
that  his  reputation  was  at  stake.  To  catch  the  disturb- 
ers of  his  turkey-roost  or  his  pig-pen,  and  give  them 
according  to  their  deserts,  was  accounted  an  act  of  valour, 
a  fit  beginning  for  the  life  of  a  fully  fledged  citizen.  To 
let  the  depredators  escape  with  their  prey  was  to  give 
them  the  chance  of  a  laugh  at  his  expense.  He  had 
caught  one  of  them,  and  he  had  meant  to  show  his 
prowess.      Now  he  was  somewhat  disconcerted.       He 


138  FREE   TO    SERVE 

stooped,  and  tried  to  help  Fulke  to  rise,  but  after  the  first 
attempt,  the  young  man  dropped  back  upon  the  floor. 

"  It's  no  use.     The  leg  is  broken,"   he  said. 

Then  a  figure  suddenly  dropped  through  the  trap- 
door, and  sprang  easily  down  to  the  floor. 

"Fulke,  old  boy,  what  is  it?"  said  Tunis.  "Can't 
you  get  up  ?  " 

"Do  men  walk  with  broken  legs  here  in  Albany?" 
asked  Fulke  coldly.  "  We  are  not  possessed  of  that 
accomplishment  in  England." 

"Are  you  sure  it's  broken?  You  may  be  mistaken," 
remonstrated  Tunis,  who  felt  in  a  measure  responsible 
for  the  accident. 

"  Feel  for  yourself,"  was  the  curt  reply. 

But  the  touch  of  the  young  man's  fingers  called  forth 
an  exclamation  of  pain.  Tunis  looked  at  Roeloff  in  dis- 
may. That  young  man  was  gloomily  studying  the  situa- 
tion. 

"  You've  made  a  pretty  mess  of  your  frolic  this  time," 
he  said.  "  I  suppose  there's  no  help  for  it ;  we  shall 
have  to  carry  him  into  the  house.  Here,  you.  Pomp  ! 
Go  and  fetch  me  a  broad,  short  board." 

They  both  looked  with  some  compunction  on  the  face 
of  the  stranger,  white  and  drawn  with  pain.  The  fract- 
ure was  a  bad  one,  and  before  the  bone  was  set,  Fulke's 
reputation  for  quiet  endurance  had  been  fairly  estab- 
lished. Nevertheless,  when  it  no  longer  took  all  his 
strength  to  master  the  sharp  physical  pain,  the  signs  of 
suffering  continued  unabated.  He  ought  to  have  been 
resting  after  the  strain  of  the  last  hours,  but  he  lay  chaf- 
ing and  fuming.  He  could  appreciate  now  the  feelings 
of  a  wild  animal  caught  in  a  trap.  Every  faculty  was 
alive  and  sufl"ering.  His  leg  lay  a  useless  weight,  ren- 
dering him  practically  as  helpless  as  itself.  He  had 
promised  Aveline  that  he  would  return  in  time  to  save 
her.     Now  he  must  lie  here  like  a  log,  while  she  waited 


FREE   TO    SERVE  139 

and  watched  for  his  coming  day  after  day,  and  at  last 
had  to  face —  He  raised  himself  on  his  elbow,  and 
called  desperately  to  his  host  —  host  by  compulsion, 
which  was  another  cause  of  uneasiness. 

"  I  cannot  lie  here,"  he  said.  "  It  is  imperative  that 
I  should  be  back  in  the  port  of  New  York  with  the  next 
sloop,  and  in  the  meantime  I  must  meet  Roger  Bennet. 
There  is  that  at  stake  which  makes  it  of  vast  importance. 
Is  there  no  way  of  seeing  Volkert  Klaerbout  to-night? 
I  was  to  have  met  him  at  —  " 

He  hesitated.     The  sentence  was  awkward  to  finish. 

"  At  the  tavern  where  you  were  to  go  to  feast  on  my 
pig,"  said  Roeloff  somewhat  grimly. 

"  A  curse  on  your  pig,  and  everything  connected  with 
such  folly,"  said  Fulke.  "  I  was  an  ass  to  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  it." 

His  host  did  not  contradict  him. 

"  But  I  must  see  this  Volkert  Klaerbout,  and  that  at 
once,"  continued  Fulke.  "  I  might  as  well  be  buried 
alive  as  lie  here  with  this  leg  a  dead  drag  on  me,  while 
all  the  time  the  last  hope  is  slipping  away," 

"You'll  stand  a  fair  chance  of  being  buried,  and  that 
not  alive,  if  you  go  on  like  this,"  said  Roeloff.  "  As  a 
doctor,  which  you  say  you  are,  you  ought  to  know  that 
excitement  is  the  worst  possible  thing  in  a  case  like 
yours." 

"  Excitement !  "  cried  Fulke,  in  a  voice  high-pitched 
and  unnatural.  "Would  you  keep  cool  if  the  —  the 
freedom  of  one  whose  happiness  was  of  far  more  con- 
sequence than  your  miserable  life,  depended  on  your 
movements,  and  you  lay  helpless  as  a  baby?" 

It  ended  in  the  looking  up  of  Volkert  Klaerbout. 
There  was  no  quieting  the  excitement  which  had  taken 
possession  of  Fulke  by  any  other  means  than  bringing 
the  young  man  to  his  side.  Roeloff  went  off  grumbling, 
and  was  gone  long. 


140  FREE   TO    SERVE 

"  Here's  Volkert  Klaerbout,  if  that  will  do  you  any- 
good,"  he  said  when  he  returned. 

"  Roger  Bennet?  "  said  the  new-comer,  in  answer  to 
Fulke's  questioning.  "  It's  little  use  putting  yourself  in 
a  frenzy  about  him.  You  couldn't  overtake  Roger  if 
you  had  three  legs  at  your  disposal,  and  all  of  them 
good  for  work.  He'll  be  back  here  in  five  or  six  days, 
if  things  should  go  well.  You'd  have  to  wait  till  then 
in  any  case." 

Five  or  six  days  !  There  was  still  a  bare  possibility 
of  the  money  being  in  time.  Roger  must  be  induced  to 
go  to  New  York  with  it  himself.  Something  must  be 
done,  should  be  done,  when  Roger  came.  Over  and 
over,  through  the  night  hours,  Fulke  said  it  to  himself, 
now  counting  the  chances,  now  acknowledging  that  there 
were  none  to  count.  And  in  the  gray  light  of  dawn  he 
was  saying  the  words  still,  only  the  tongue  that  spoke 
them  tripped,  and  made  strange  blunders,  for  the  eye 
that  looked  into  the  surroundings  of  the  new  day  shone 
with  an  unnatural  light. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  141 


CHAPTER   XV 

CAPTAIN  CRANDAL  was  in  a  bad  temper. 
He  swore  at  the  seamen  who  were  stowing  away 
his  cargo  of  tobacco  and  peltry,  and  quarrelled 
with  the  New  Yorkers  whose  boats  swept  round  too 
close  to  his  vessel.  He  railed  at  the  hot  wind  that  blew 
from  the  south,  and  the  sun  that  burnt  and  blistered 
the  paint  of  the  "  Bullfinch,"  and  set  the  captain  to 
mopping  his  face  with  his  sleeve.  And  after  all,  it  was 
not  the  steady  pouring  down  of  the  golden  rays  that 
gave  to  the  master  of  the  "Bullfinch"  that  feeling  of 
oppression,  and  forced  him  to  turn  to  windward  in  the 
vain  hope  of  catching  a  breath  of  cool  air.  It  was  not 
the  sun  that  was  burning  into  the  rugged  heart,  which 
was  not  all  hardened,  despite  the  greed  of  the  captain's 
self-centred  life,  but  rather  the  consciousness  of  a  folded 
square  of  paper  resting  in  the  capacious  pocket,  well 
out  of  sight.  That  bit  of  paper  might  as  well  have  been 
held  up  before  his  eyes,  so  persistently  did  the  words  it 
bore  accompany  and  confront  him. 

He  had  done  it  —  done  the  deed  against  which  his 
heart  had  been  giving  vigorous  protests  these  five  days, 
the  deed  towards  which  his  settled  life  principle  of 
money-getting  had  been  steadily  driving  him.  The 
price  of  the  passage  of  two  adults  in  the  good  ship 
"  Bullfinch  "  lay  close  to  the  folded  paper.  And  yet 
Captain  Crandal  was  not  happy.  Not  happy  !  He  came 
nearer  being  desperately  unhappy  than  he  could 
remember  to  have  been  for  many  a  year.  He  swore  a 
bigger  oath  by  way  of  giving  vent  to  some  of  his  dis- 
satisfaction, and  then  went  and  looked  down  into  the 
vessel's  hold. 


142  FREE   TO    SERVE 

"  Hoist  them  chests  on  deck,  will  you,  and  look 
alive !      Don't  go  to  sleep  there  !  "  he  shouted. 

"  Aye,  aye,"  came  from  the  depths,  and  one  by  one 
three  strong  oak  chests  were  swung  up,  and  the  work 
of  stowing  away  cargo  went  on. 

It  was  not  many  minutes  later  when  Aveline  came  on 
deck,  and  walked  slowly  over  to  where  the  big  boxes 
rested.  She  stood  looking  down  upon  them,  or  trying 
to  look  through  the  blur  of  tears  that  came  at  the  sudden 
contact  with  objects  which  were  associated  with  the  safe 
home-life.  She  had  not  seen  those  chests  since  they 
stood,  packed  and  ready  to  be  sent  off,  in  the  hall  of 
the  Great  House.  There  was  not  a  maid  in  the  Great 
House  whom  she  did  not  envy  to-day. 

"  Feel  about  ready  to  claim  your  property,  my 
girl?" 

The  captain's  head  appeared  above  the  deck,  and  the 
remainder  of  the  man  followed  the  head  out  of  the  ves- 
sel's interior.  Aveline  raised  her  eyes,  shining  with 
tears,  to  the  speaker's  face. 

"  Nay,  nay,  lass,"  he  said  ;  "  put  a  stout  heart  against 
sorrow." 

The  girl's  lip  quivered.  The  heart  had  need  to  be 
stouter  than  the  one  that  ached  so  sorely  within  her,  to 
be  strong  enough  to  meet  the  sorrow  that  was  closing 
about  her. 

"  I  judged  them  chests  had  to  be  got  ready  to  accom- 
pany their  owner,"  said  the  captain.  "  I  didn't  flatter 
myself  you'd  affection  enough  for  Geoffrey  Crandal  to 
be  thinkin'  of  leavin'  them  behind  as  a  mark  of  friend- 
ship." 

The  captain  was  making  such  a  prodigious  effort  to  be 
at  his  ease,  that  his  uneasiness  was  apparent  through 
every  word. 

The  mistiness  about  Aveline's  eyes  cleared.  She 
looked  at  the  speaker    fixedly. 


FREE   TO   SERVE  143 

"  Was  there  any  immediate  need  for  bringing  them 
up?  "  she  asked,  while  a  cold,  creeping  fear  touched  her 
heart. 

"  Aye,  there  was." 

"  When?  "  she  said. 

"  In  two  hours." 

"  So  soon  !  " 

She  stood  looking  in  his  face,  not  knowing  that  she 
was  looking.  She  was  thinking  that  the  comparative 
safety  of  life  on  shipboard  was  over.  The  ship-master 
did  not  know  what  she  was  thinking.  He  was  thinking 
that  he  wished  himself  well  out  of  a  business  that  was 
lowering  his  opinion  of  Geoffrey  Crandal  at  every  move. 
He  shifted  his  position,  with  a  view  to  getting  out  of  the 
range  of  Aveline's  eyes. 

"  Well,  don't  you  want  to  know  what  a  rare  good  bar- 
gain I've  made  for  you?"  he  asked. 

He  was  uncomfortably  certain  that  the  best  would 
seem  bad  enough  to  his  listener.  She  turned  slightly, 
so  that  her  eyes  again  rested  on  his  face,  but  beyond 
that  movement  she  made  no  answer. 

"  I  never  was  much  of  a  boaster,"  continued  the  ship- 
master, "  but  if  there's  a  man  on  earth  can  beat  Geof- 
frey Crandal  at  a  bargain,  I've  yet  to  find  him.  Young 
Geysbert  Feljer  hadn't  been  dealin'  with  me  long  before 
he  learned  that  to  buy  from  Geoffrey  Crandal  the  ser- 
vices of  a  maid  who  was  thoroughly  well  able  to  turn 
mistress  on  occasion,  he'd  have  to  give  in  to  terms  that 
were  to  the  advantage  of  the  girl.  Aye,  and  I  screwed 
him  up  to  my  time  before  I  was  done  with  him.  Not  a 
day  over  five  years  have  you  got  to  serve,  and  you  may 
thank  Geoffrey  Crandal  for  that." 

"  Five  years  !  "  Aveline  echoed  his  words. 

"  Aye,  five  years.  What  better  would  you  ask? 
'Tis  puttin'  your  services  higher  than  the  service  of 
maid  was  ever  placed  in  this  land,  I'll  wager." 


144  FREE   TO   SERVE 

Five  years !  Just  now  it  looked  like  a  lifetime. 
Aveline  could  not  see  beyond  it. 

"And  your  money  is  paid?  My  brother  is  no  longer 
in  your  debt?  "  she  asked,  after  a  long  silence. 

"  It's  all  paid.    You're  out  of  debt  now,  both  of  you." 

"  It  is  at  least  a  comfort  that  you "  have  not  been  de- 
frauded," she  said,  and  she  went  to  put  together  the 
rest  of  her  possessions. 

It  was  all  over.  There  was  no  more  any  hope,  but 
there  had  come  instead  the  quiet  of  despair.  With  the 
certainty  of  the  evil,  there  was  deliverance  from  the  sick- 
ening suspense  of  the  last  week. 

Before  the  two  hours  had  expired  Aveline  was  on 
deck,  awaiting  her  purchaser.  She  saw  his  eyes  search- 
ing for  her  before  he  stepped  on  to  the  vessel's  planks. 
He  came  over  to  her,  and  stood  looking  down  upon  her. 
He  was  tall  enough  to  need  to  look  down.  There  was 
something  in  his  face  beside  admiration  to-day.  A 
certain  critical  scrutiny,  a  weighing  of  the  points  of  his 
bargain,  an  unmistakable  air  of  appropriating  his  pos- 
session—  all  these  were  apparent.  But  the  admiration 
was  none  the  less  the  predominating  expression. 

"  Well,  young  maid,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  that  was  pur- 
posely light,  "and  so  your  brother  has  not  yet  put  in 
an  appearance,  and  our  good  captain  has  deemed  it 
necessary  to  come  to  a  decision." 

"  You  speak  truth,  sir,  more's  the  pity,"  said  Aveline. 

"  Pity  for  you,  but  right  well  I  know  there'll  be  them 
that  will  find  it  anything  but  a  pity,"  he  said.  "  And 
are  all  these  chests  to  journey  with  us  up  the  river?  " 

"  They  are  mine,"  said  Aveline,  "  and  I  know  not 
where  else  to  bestow  them.  I  had  hoped  "  — her  voice 
broke  for  a  moment  —  "I  had  expected  that  I  should 
have  kept  house  for  my  brother,"  she  continued  more 
firmly.  "  Their  contents  would  then  have  been  of  ser- 
vice." 


FREE   TO    SERVE  145 

"Verily,  it  seems  not  improbable  that  you  may  be 
called  upon  to  keep  house  for  one  more  fortunate  than 
your  brother,"  said  the  young  man.  "  The  hearts  of 
our  youths  are  not  proof  against  the  charms  of  beauty." 

The  movement  with  which  Aveline  turned  from  him 
and  looked  out  across  the  water  might  have  been  in- 
terpreted as  simply  a  farewell  gaze  in  the  direction  of 
her  home.  Geysbert  Feljer  did  not,  however,  so  inter- 
pret it.  His  next  words  were  strictly  in  the  line  of 
business. 

"  How  soon  can  you  be  ready  to  go  on  the  yacht?  " 
he  said.     "We  have  little  time  to  lose." 

"  I  am  ready  now,"  replied  Aveline,  turning  again 
towards  him.  "  I  would  not  keep  you,  but  I  have  one 
request  that  I  would  make,  so  that  I  may  know  what 
message  to  leave  for  my  brother.  When  he  shall  return, 
with  full  ability  to  refund  the  money  you  have  paid  to 
Captain  Crandal,  could  he  —  would  it  be  possible  to 
cancel  this  agreement,  and  give  me  my  freedom  again  ?  " 

She  saw  the  shadow  that  came  over  his  face,  and 
noticed  the  harder  curves  about  his  mouth.  His  answer 
was  not  given  to  her.     He  turned  to  the  ship-master. 

"  Nay,"  he  said,  "  if  that's  how  it  stands,  you'd  better 
hand  out  that  money,  captain.  I  deemed  you  had  full 
power  to  sell  for  the  time  agreed  upon.  What  should 
my  mother  be  wanting  with  a  maid  who  would  go  from 
her  before  she  had  well  learned  her  duties?  Little  sense 
would  there  be  in  taking  this  maiden  up  the  river  for 
the  simple  pleasure  of  sending  her  down  again.  If  I 
buy  a  maid,  I  want  a  maid." 

"  And  what  more  do  you  desire  than  the  maid  you've 
got?"  asked  the  ship-master  wrathfully.  "As  for  the 
right  to  sell,  I  should  like  to  know  who  has  a  better." 

"  But  if  this  maiden  would  reserve  the  privilege  of  a 
release  at  any  time  she  may  desire  the  same,  the  pur- 
chase   is   of  little  value  to  me,"   said  the  young  man. 


146  FREE    TO    SERVE 

"Yet  I  do  not  wish  to  press  her  unduly.  This  is  a 
matter  for  her  and  you  to  decide  between  you." 

"  I  am  acting  according  to  my  agreement  with  her 
and  her  brother.  Is  not  that  the  case?"  asked  the 
captain  of  AveHne, 

"Yes;   it  is  according  to  agreement,  but  —  " 

"'But'  will  not  bring  me  my  money,"  said  the  ship- 
master. "  The  question  is,  are  you  ready  to  stand  by 
your  brother's  bargain?" 

"  I  have  no  choice,"  said  Aveline,  "  for  surely  I 
would  not  defraud  you." 

"  There,  you  hear  that.  What  more  have  you  to 
say?"   demanded  Captain  Crandal  of  the  young  man. 

"  Nothing,"  was  the  reply.  "  My  girl,  when  you  are 
ready,  we  will  go." 

His  manner  was  gentle,  as  if  he  were  sorry  for  the 
pain  he  was  causing. 

Aveline  moved  a  step  forward. 

"  Captain  Crandal,  you  will  let  my  brother  know 
where  I  have  gone,"  she  said. 

"Trust  me  for  that.  If  I'm  not  here,  I'll  find  the 
means  to  communicate  with  him  right  enough.  You'll 
soon  see  the  lad  again,  never  fear.  And  when  you 
want  to  know  just  what  terms  Geoffrey  Crandal  has 
made  for  you,  give  a  look  at  this  paper." 

It  was  a  copy  of  the  terms  of  sale,  the  same  obtrusive 
square  of  paper  that  had  troubled  Geoffrey  Crandal  from 
the  moment  it  came  into  his  possession. 

It  was  inevitable  that  in  accompanying  her  owner  to 
the  vessel  which  was  to  take  them  further  up  the  Hudson, 
Aveline  should  interpret  the  curious  glances  of  the 
strangers  she  met  as  signs  of  contempt  for  the  bond-ser- 
vant. They  were  free  men  and  women,  raised  by  that 
fact  to  another  plane  than  that  of  the  negro  slave  or  the 
white  bond-servant.  Aveline  knew  nothing  about  their 
views  on  the  subject,  but  she  felt  the  sting  of  her  bondage, 


FREE   TO    SERVE  147 

and  her  own  sense  of  humiliation  was  enough  to  inter- 
pret for  her  the  feeHngs  of  these  comfortable-looking 
colonial  worthies.  Geysbert  Feljer  did  his  best  to  put 
her  at  her  ease.  They  had  some  distance  to  walk  to 
reach  the  spot  where  the  yacht  lay,  and  as  they  went  he 
pointed  out  to  her  the  notable  features  of  the  little  city. 
It  was  not  his  fault  that  she  could  not  forget  her  humili- 
ation, but  his  efforts  were  sadly  wasted.  Aveline  an- 
swered him  quietly  and  intelligently,  relapsing,  however, 
the  moment  she  ceased  speaking,  into  the  same  hopeless 
quiet  that  was  suggestive  enough  of  despair  to  cause 
Geysbert  Feljer  some  rather  sharp  twinges  of  compunc- 
tion. 

Her  face  had  been  very  white,  but  when  she  followed 
him  on  to  the  yacht,  a  painful  flush  suffused  it.  Some 
ten  or  twelve  passengers,  bound  for  bouweries  inter- 
mediate between  New  York  and  Esopus,  were  doing  their 
best  to  interpret  the  situation.  A  young  and  beautiful 
girl  —  for  there  was  not  one  who  denied  her  the  title  — 
appearing  in  the  company  of  Geysbert  Feljer,  was  enough 
to  set  them  all  on  the  alert.  Moreover,  it  was  apparent 
that  she  was  not  there  in  the  character  of  a  visitor  to  his 
mother's  home.  The  diffidence  of  manner,  that  accepted 
the  position  in  which  she  was  placed,  and  was  careful 
not  to  step  beyond  it,  was  plainly  mingled  with  a  proud 
reserve,  a  holding  of  herself  and  her  companion  in  check. 
The  good  folks  felt  that  this  was  not  the  attitude  of  friend- 
ship, and  if  the  girl  was  not  a  friend  of  the  family,  what 
was  she?  It  was  no  wonder  Aveline  felt  the  question  in 
every  eye  ;  the  inquiry  was  too  decidedly  pronounced  to 
pass  unobserved. 

There  was  more  than  curiosity  in  the  skipper's  broad 
stare.  In  the  list  of  passengers  permitted  to  pass  up  the 
river  in  his  boat  was  the  name  of  Aveline  Nevard,  bond- 
servant. Could  this  be  the  wench  ?  He  put  the  matter 
to  the  test. 


148  FREE    TO    SERVE 

"Getting  home  with  your  purchase?"  he  asked 
rudely. 

The  young  man  eyed  him  from  head  to  foot.  Then 
he  turned  pointedly  away. 

"You  will  find  our  river  a  different  kind  of  stream 
from  your  Thames,"  he  said,  addressing  Aveline,  and 
he  led  her  to  the  further  end  of  the  yacht.  The  skip- 
per stared  after  them. 

"  Don't  look  as  if  she  was  much  used  to  the  duties  of 
a  serving-wench,  does  she?"  he  remarked  to  a  by- 
stander, but  this  time  the  words  were  spoken  in  the 
unknown  tongue  Aveline  heard  on  all  sides. 

It  does  not  take  long  for  such  news  as  the  skipper 
had  to  tell  to  travel  from  end  to  end  of  a  boat,  and 
under  the  significant  glances  and  open-eyed  scrutiny  it 
took  all  Aveline's  self-control  to  hold  herself  erect,  and 
preserve  such  composure  of  manner  as  should  at  least 
veil  her  humiliation.  Every  nerve  was  tingling  with 
shame,  but  she  forced  herself  to  answer  Geysbert  Fel- 
jer's  remarks,  and  to  look  up  the  river  in  the  direction 
in  which  he  pointed.  The  young  man  put  himself  very 
determinately  between  her  and  the  passengers,  studi- 
ously ignoring  both  the  looks  and  words  of  the  latter. 
Of  the  words  he  heard  enough  to  make  his  manner 
anything  but  conciliatory  when  one  and  another  accosted 
him.  Their  cool  reception  gave  the  homeward-bound 
colonists  no  encouragement  to  pursue  the  conversation, 
and  soon  the  two  were  left  in  possession  of  the  spot 
which  Geysbert  had   chosen  for  Aveline. 

She  could  not  but  be  grateful  to  him  for  the  trouble  he 
was  taking.  His  presence  lessened  her  terror,  and  with- 
out reasoning  about  it,  she  drew  from  his  manner  hope 
for  the  future.  He  was  as  careful  in  making  arrange- 
ments for  her  comfort  as  if  she  had  been  his  sister,  and 
by  no  word  or  look  did  he  again  lay  himself  open  to 
rebuff.     He  was  trying  to  allay  her  fears,  and  drive  the 


FREE   TO    SERVE  149 

hunted  look  from  her  eyes.  It  was  not  till  he  had  made 
every  provision  for  her  below,  and  had  bidden  her  good- 
night with  a  courtesy  in  which  she  could  find  no  trace  of 
anything  but  kindness  and  respect,  that  he  threw  off  the 
restraint  he  had  put  upon  himself,  and  joined  the  com- 
pany on  deck.  Then,  when  a  bowl  of  punch  had  been 
prepared,  and  the  men  had  stretched  themselves  on  the 
deck  in  lazy  enjoyment  of  the  cool  evening  air,  his  tongue 
was  less  reticent,  and  he  atoned  for  the  chilliness  of  his 
former  greetings,  and  vouchsafed  to  be  communicative. 

It  was  a  hot  night,  and  the  supply  of  punch  was  un- 
limited. The  stars  were  fading  before  the  first  streak  of 
dawn  when  the  men  turned  in,  and  the  gentle  wash  of 
the  water  against  the  side  of  the  yacht,  as  she  lay  await- 
ing morning  and  wind  enough  to  fill  her  sails,  was  at 
last  the  only  sound  to  be  heard. 

To  Aveline  the  day  which  followed  that  dawn  seemed 
interminable.  She  could  not  complain  of  any  neglect 
on  the  part  of  Geysbert  Feljer,  but  more  than  once  she 
could  have  wished  he  had  been  less  attentive.  There 
was  something  in  his  manner  that  had  not  been  there 
the  night  before,  an  intangible  something,  that  was  yet 
real  enough  and  definite  enough  to  make  his  attentions  a 
source  of  uneasiness.  Once  or  twice,  as  he  persistently 
devoted  himself  to  her,  Aveline  saw  a  broad  and  en- 
tirely undisguised  smile  on  the  lips  of  men  with  whom, 
a  minute  before,  he  had  been  in  friendly  converse.  She 
could  not  help  feeling  that  they  were  making  merry  at 
her  expense,  though  she  did  not  do  Geysbert  the  injus- 
tice to  believe  that  any  such  thought  was  in  his  mind. 
She  was  too  little  versed  in  the  ways  of  the  world  to 
associate  the  punch-drinking,  which  still  went  on  in  a 
lesser  degree,  with  his  altered  manner.  She  only  noted 
the  difference,  and  drew  as  far  back  from  observation  as 
possible,  giving  the  young  man  no  encouragement  to 
remain  near  her.     But  when  another  night's  sociability 


I50  FREE   TO   SERVE 

had  had  time  to  produce  its  effect,  even  to  her  unsophis- 
ticated eyes  it  was  an  easy  matter  to  read  back  from 
effect  to  cause.  The  potations  were  plainly  telling  on 
the  young  man.  His  tongue  was  loosed.  Noisy  hilarity 
had  taken  the  place  of  his  former  quiet  demeanour,  and 
he  no  longer  refrained  from  paying  Aveline  those  direct 
compliments  that  had  hitherto  been  held  back  by  the 
restraining  influence  of  her  manner  towards  him. 

Towards  afternoon  the  sky  became  heavy  with  clouds, 
and  when  Esopus  was  reached,  and  the  passengers  who 
had  not  already  disembarked  took  their  departure,  a 
heavy  storm  of  rain  and  wind  swept  across  the  water, 
and  threatening  rumbles  of  thunder  were  heard  in  the 
west.  Aveline  went  below,  and  waited  in  sickening 
dread.  In  a  few  hours  the  nearest  point  to  the  manor 
house  would  be  reached,  and  the  untried  difficulties  of 
her  new  position  would  meet  her. 

It  was  almost  dark  when  the  yacht  neared  her  last 
stopping  place.  She  had  come  beyond  Esopus  for  the 
sole  purpose  of  conveying  Geysbert  Feljer  and  his 
charge  to  their  destination,  and  would,  if  possible,  make 
the  return  trip  before  anchoring  for  the  night.  Aveline 
had  not  seen  Geysbert  since  Esopus  was  passed.  The 
rain  was  abating,  and  she  wrapped  a  heavy  cloak  about 
her,  and  sought  a  comparatively  sheltered  spot  on  deck. 
There  was  more  room  to  breathe  up  here ;  she  felt  less 
hemmed  in  and  desperate.  She  stood  leaning  over  the 
rail,  her  face  hidden  from  any  in  the  other  part  of  the 
yacht.  Weariness  and  the  terror  of  the  unknown  were 
exercising  their  influence  upon  her.  The  darkness 
creeping  over  the  world  made  its  way  further,  and  set- 
tled down  upon  her  soul.  Hot,  hopeless  tears  fell  un- 
checked, dropping  down  into  the  water.  Heavy  sobs, 
which  she  yet  controlled  so  far  that  no  sound  reached 
beyond  her  sheltered  corner,  shook  her.  For  the 
moment  she    had    abandoned  herself  to    despair.     So 


FREE   TO    SERVE  151 

thoroughly  had  she  given  herself  up  to  her  sorrow,  that 
she  did  not  hear  a  step  coming  towards  her  retreat,  nor 
know  that  she  was  not  still  alone,  until  a  hand  was  laid 
upon  her  shoulder,  and  Geysbert  Feljer  stood  beside 
her. 

"What,  tears?"  he  said,  bending  his  head  to  look 
into  her  face.  "  Truly  this  is  a  shabby  way  to  treat 
your  new  home,  to  come  to  it  with  those  shining  eyes 
all  dimmed  with  tears." 

She  made  him  no  answer,  unless  the  turning  of  her 
head  so  that  her  face  was  hidden  from  him  might  be 
taken  for  a  reply.      He  kept  his  hand  on  her  shoulder. 

"  A  pretty  lass  like  you  should  never  wear  a  long 
face,"  he  said.  "  Come  now,  give  me  a  kiss  as  a  re- 
ward for  my  promise,  and  I  swear  your  life  at  the  manor 
house  shall  be  one  that  befits  so  handsome  a  maid." 

He  made  a  movement  as  if  he  would  take  that  for 
which  he  asked. 

Aveline  drew  herself  away  with  so  sudden  a  wrench 
that  his  hand  fell  from  her  shoulder.  She  moved  off  a 
step  and  confronted  him.  The  tears  were  gone  now. 
He  had  no  longer  need  to  complain  of  the  lack  of  lustre 
in  her  eyes.  They  were  blazing  with  a  light  that  the 
storm  cloud  and  night  shadows  combined  could  not 
hide. 

"  Sir,"  she  said,  in  a  voice  that  quivered  as  much  with 
anger  as  with  the  sorrow  hardly  yet  under  control,  "I 
know  not  what  your  action  implies.  If  you  would  show 
your  scorn  of  the  bond-servant,  you  may  have  the 
pleasure  of  knowing  that  you  have  succeeded  as  truly  as 
you  desire.  Yet  in  your  triumph  it  might  be  as  well  to 
remember  that  the  serving-maid  is  a  gentlewoman  born. 
As  your  mother's  maid  I  will  endeavour  to  do  my  duty, 
but  I  do  not  judge  that  the  conditions  of  my  service 
give  you  the  right  to  forget  what  is  due  either  to  your- 
self or  me." 


152  FREE    TO    SERVE 

For  the  moment  Geysbert  Feljer  was  at  a  loss  for  a 
reply.  He  was  abashed  and  disconcerted.  Had  he 
been  in  the  fullest  possession  of  himself,  he  would  not 
have  ventured  on  such  familiarity  with  one  who  was 
comparatively  a  stranger,  even  though  she  happened  to 
be  in  the  peculiar  position  in  which  Aveline  was  placed. 
He  had  not  meant  to  offend  the  girl.  His  admiration 
was  genuine,  and  he  had  but  been  trying  to  show  it  in 
as  open  a  manner  as  he  desired.  He  had  many  a  time 
stolen  a  kiss  from  a  pretty  girl  without  meeting  with  re- 
buff. But  if  his  brain  had  not  been  befogged  with  the 
effects  of  his  liberal  imbibing  of  punch,  he  would  have 
remembered  not  only  that  this  girl  was  a  stranger,  but 
that  her  dependence,  which  gave  him  the  opportunity 
to  be  thus  familiar,  made  it  inevitable  that  any  undue 
liberty  should  be  to  her  suggestive  of  insult.  As  it  was, 
he  was  divided  between  repentance  and  vexation. 

"  Nay,  you  are  unjust,"  he  said,  after  an  awkward 
silence.  "  It  is  not  every  pretty  lass  who  would  feel 
herself  insulted  because  a  man  praised  her  face." 

"  Hullo,  there,  young  man !  You  and  your  new 
possession  had  better  be  preparing  to  get  ashore,  in- 
stead of  choosing  dark  corners  to  exchange  confidences 
in." 

The  skipper  laughed  at  his  own  joke,  and  poked  Geys- 
bert in  the  ribs.  The  young  man  turned  savagely  upon 
him. 

"  Get  out  of  the  way  and  attend  to  your  sailing,  and 
let  my  concerns  alone,  can't  you?"  he  said.  "Who 
asked  you  to  put  your  word  in,  confound  you  !  " 

"  Oh,  ho  !  That's  how  the  wind  blows,  is  it  ?"  said 
the  skipper,   and  went  off. 

Geysbert  followed  him  out  to  the  wind-swept  side  of 
the  deck,  and  Aveline  stood  trembling  with  indignation 
and  dismay.  Almost  immediately  there  came  the  bustle 
of  making  the  landing,  and  then  the  putting  ashore  of 


FREE   TO    SERVE  153 

her  boxes.  At  that  point  in  the  proceedings  Geysbert 
came  again  to  her  side. 

"  It  is  raining  more  than  is  pleasant,"  he  said,  "  but 
we  shall  have  to  be  going.  The  skipper  is  in  a  hurry  to 
put  back  to  Esopus.  It  is  not  a  long  walk  to  the  house, 
but  the  road  will  be  bad." 

His  manner  was  constrained.  Aveline  could  not 
decide  whether  he  was  angry,  or  simply  disconcerted. 
He  helped  her  off  the  boat,  saw  her  possessions  covered 
from  the  rain,  and  told  her  he  would  send  one  of  the 
negroes  down  to  bring  them  from  the  river.  Then  they 
started  out  into  the  darkness,  taking  with  them  a  lantern 
which  the  skipper  had  placed  at  their  disposal.  The 
night  was  very  heavy,  but  now  and  again  a  flash  of  light- 
ning lit  up  the  scene,  and  showed  Aveline  the  bridle-path 
along  which  they  were  walking. 

"  This  is  the  nearest  way  to  the  house,"  said  Geysbert. 
"  There  is  a  wagon-road,  but  it  is  not  as  direct,  and 
to-night  the  mud  would  render  it  well-nigh  impassable." 

The  walk  was  not  really  long,  but  it  seemed  so  to  Ave- 
line. The  manor  house  stood  on  an  elevation  scarcely 
a  mile  from  the  river,  while  some  of  the  out-buildings 
approached  much  nearer.  It  was  at  one  of  these  that 
they  stopped.  The  doors  were  open,  and  there  were 
lights  enough  within  to  reveal  its  cavernous  depths.  To 
Aveline,  whose  ideas  of  a  barn  were  those  of  her  English 
home,  there  was  something  weird  in  the  high,  dark  struct- 
ure, within  which  she  caught  glimpses  of  horned  heads 
when  the  light  from  the  lanterns  fell  on  the  cattle  in  their 
stalls.  Black  faces  peered  out  into  the  darkness,  and 
the  rolling  eyes  of  the  foremost  negro  were  especially 
prominent. 

"  I  will  give  directions  concerning  the  bringing  up  of 
your  chests,"  said  Geysbert.  "  In  the  meantime  you 
had  better  step  inside." 

He  motioned  her  towards  the  lighted  interior,  but  the 


154  FREE   TO    SERVE 

stare  of  those  rolling  eyes  was  too  much  for  her  courage. 
She  wanted  to  face  as  few  strangers  as  possible  to-night. 

"  Thank  you,  but  I  would  rather  stay  here,"  she  said. 

"  As  you  will,"  he  replied,  and  it  was  plain  that  he 
interpreted  her  refusal  as  a  reflection  upon  himself. 

He  was  gone  but  a  minute. 

"  I  have  just  learned  that  my  mother  is  not  at  the 
manor  house,"  he  said,  returning.  "  She  has  gone 
further  up  the  country  to  attend  a  funeral,  and  will  not 
be  back  before  to-morrow.  I  am  sorry,  for  your  sake. 
Not  that  it  need  distress  you  at  all.  If  you  will  come 
in  and  wait  for  a  few  minutes,  I  will  take  you  to  the 
house  of  Ryseck  Schredel,  who  will  make  you  quite  com- 
fortable for  to-night."  Then,  noticing  that  she  still 
hesitated  to  enter,  he  added  shortly:  "  You  can  go  on 
there  at  once,  if  you  so  prefer.  You  have  but  to  follow 
the  path  to  yonder  house  where  the  first  light  appears. 
That  is  Ryseck  Schredel's.  She  is  the  only  white  woman 
among  our  servants." 

The  suggestion  of  womanly  sympathy  and  protection 
gave  Aveline  a  longing  desire  to  hasten  forward  to  the 
spot  where  a  friendly  light  shone  into  the  night.  It  was 
but  a  short  distance  ahead,  and  she  had  no  fear  of  losing 
her  way. 

"If you  have  no  objection,  I  will  go  on,"  she  said. 
"  I  am  very  tired." 

Once  beyond  the  barn,  however,  she  began  to  realize 
that  there  was  a  difference  between  plunging  alone  into 
the  darkness,  and  having  her  footsteps  guided  by  the 
lantern  which  Geysbert  had  carried  low  for  her  benefit. 
She  more  than  once  found  herself  in  a  mud-hole  before 
she  stood  on  the  doorstep  of  the  house  for  which  she  was 
bound.  It  was  a  small  house,  its  gable-end  to  the  road, 
and  from  the  step  where  she  stood  the  light  was  no 
longer  visible.  Her  knock  had  to  be  repeated  before 
the  welcome  sound  of  footsteps  told  her  that  Ryseck 


FREE   TO    SERVE  155 

Schredel  was  coming.  A  sudden  upspringing  of  hope 
came  to  her  as  the  steps  drew  nearer.  There  was  in 
them  at  least  the  promise  of  shelter  from  the  night  and 
the  storm,  and  protection  until  the  morning.  She 
breathed  a  sigh  of  relief  when  the  door  was  opened, and 
she  saw  a  stout  comfortable-looking  Dutchwoman,  who 
carried  a  shining  brass  candlestick,  holding  it  high  that 
the  light  might  more  effectually  reveal  her  visitor.  Her 
face  was  a  study  as  she  stood  steadily  regarding  the 
storm-beaten  figure  upon  the  threshold.  Rain  and  mud 
and  weariness  were  not  sufficient  to  hide  the  girlish  grace 
of  the  figure,  but  taken  in  connection  with  the  fair,  fright- 
ened face,  they  were  startling  enough  to  account  for  the 
astonishment  which  manifested  itself  in  the  woman's 
broad  features.  She  made  no  sign  of  welcome,  but  stood 
with  her  candle  on  a  level  with  her  head,  and  stared  at 
the  girl. 

"  I  had  expected  to  see  Mrs.  Feljer  to-night,"  said 
Aveline,  in  a  voice  low  and  faltering,  "  but  Mr.  Feljer 
tells  me  she  is  away,  and  he  bade  me  ask  you  to  allow 
me  to  stay  with  you  until  her  return." 

She  looked  into  the  woman's  eyes  with  a  smile  that 
was  pitiful  in  its  appeal  for  help  and  sympathy,  and 
advanced  a  step  towards  her  prospective  hostess.  Only 
one  step,  however.  Before  she  could  take  another  the 
strong  hand  of  the  Dutchwoman  grasped  her  shoulder, 
while  the  pale  blue  eyes  glittered  and  snapped  with  anger. 
A  deluge  of  words,  all  in  the  tongue  that  seemed  to 
Aveline  one  of  the  terrors  of  her  lonely  situation,  fell 
upon  and  about  her,  and  the  candle  was  thrust  forward 
so  that  its  rays  shone  full  upon  her  feet,  all  coated  with 
great  cakes  of  mud  ready  to  fall  at  the  next  step.  On 
and  on  rushed  the  stream  of  words  —  a  torrent  appar- 
ently without  end.  Once  Aveline  made  a  frantic  effort 
to  explain,  but  her  attempt  was  borne  down  by  the 
steady  outflow  of  language,  and  she  could  only  stand, 


156  FREE   TO    SERVE 

frightened  and  desperate,  waiting  for  the  deluge  to  cease. 
Instead  of  ceasing,  however,  it  grew  louder  and  more 
vehement,  and  at  last  the  big  hand  of  the  Dutchwoman 
made  a  sudden  forward  movement,  and  Aveline  found 
herself  pushed  off  the  threshold,  and  out  into  the  mud 
of  the  road.  A  further  outburst  of  those  pouring,  pelt- 
ing words,  no  one  of  which  conveyed  to  the  frightened 
listener  any  meaning  beyond  angry  denunciation,  fol- 
lowed her  into  the  darkness. 

The  irate  Dutchwoman  had  thrust  her  out  with  such 
force  that  Aveline  had  some  ado  to  keep  herself  from  fall- 
ing. As  the  undiminished  flow  of  her  wrath  poured  out 
into  the  night,  the  girl  retreated  in  dismay,  stepping 
ankle-deep  into  the  mud  of  a  roadway  which  led  past  a 
number  of  buildings  dimly  visible  ahead.  Their  walls 
made  a  denser  shadow  across  the  path,  and  there  were 
now  no  more  lights  to  be  seen. 

Pulling  her  feet  with  difficulty  out  of  the  mud,  Aveline 
hurried  on,  bent  only  on  getting  beyond  the  sound  of 
the  angry  voice  at  the  open  door.  She  turned  her  back 
on  it,  and  literally  ran  away,  where,  she  did  not  know. 
She  could  not  feel  safe  until  she  had  rounded  the  corner 
of  a  building,  and  the  light  from  the  Dutchwoman's 
candle  was  no  longer  to  be  seen.  True,  it  was  darker 
here,  but  it  seemed  beyond  the  reach  of  immediate 
danger.  When  she  had  gone  thus  far  Aveline  stopped, 
for  she  had  no  idea  what  to  do  next.  The  rain  was 
falling  heavily  again,  and  a  distant  rumble  of  thunder 
had  a  menacing  sound.  There  was  no  shelter  where 
she  stood,  and  she  moved  on  in  sheer  desperation.  It 
seemed  scarcely  possible  to  be  in  a  worse  predicament 
than  the  one  in  which  she  found  herself.  Perhaps  some- 
where there  might  be  a  sheltered  spot  where  she  could 
creep  in  from  the  rain,  and  wait  till  morning.  She 
could  just  discern  the  roadway,  and  the  dark  forms  of 
buildings  that  bordered   it.      Soon  she  passed  beyond 


FREE   TO   SERVE  157 

these,  so  far  as  one  side  of  the  road  was  concerned. 
It  seemed  to  her  that  she  was  walking  along  by  an  open 
field,  but  there  was  not  light  enough  for  her  to  be  sure. 
She  put  out  her  hand  and  felt  a  rough  post  —  a  part  of 
the  fence.  Just  then  a  flash  of  lightning  disclosed  to 
her  her  position.  She  was,  as  she  had  supposed,  at  the 
edge  of  an  inclosure,  —  a  small  paddock  it  appeared  to 
her,  —  but  her  eyes  opened  wide  with  horror  as  the  out- 
line of  that  field  became  visible.  It  was  fenced  with  — 
what?  She  shuddered  and  drew  back.  Her  hand  had 
been  touching  one  of  those  posts.  Was  there  nothing 
but  terror  in  this  place? 

She  retreated  a  few  steps,  and  then  stood  still.  What 
next?  The  Dutchwoman  was  dangerous,  Aveline  felt 
sure  of  it,  and  to  Geysbert  Feljer  she  could  not  return. 
The  remembrance  of  his  looks  and  words  was  yet  too 
fresh.  The  darkness  and  storm  were  dreadful  to  her, 
and  this  new  terror  was  about  her,  possibly  nearer  to 
her  even  now  than  she  knew,  but  she  could  not  go  back. 

Again  there  was  a  flash  of  light,  and  Aveline's  eyes 
turned  towards  the  inclosure.  She  uttered  a  sharp  cry 
of  terror,  for  to  her,  in  the  gleam  that  came  and  went 
almost  before  it  had  revealed  the  weird  scene,  it  seemed 
that  the  place  was  fenced  with  skulls.  They  had  the 
white,  bare  look,  the  dead  dryness  of  bones  that  have 
been  so  long  exposed  to  the  weather  that  the  very  sug- 
gestion of  life  has  passed  away  from  them.  Their  reg- 
ularity added  to  the  horror.  There  had  been  one  on 
the  top  of  the  post  her  hand  had  just  touched,  and  there 
was  one  on  every  post  as  far  as  her  eye  could  travel 
in  the  momentary  survey.  They  seemed  numberless, 
those  ghastly  heads  —  an  array  of  huge,  fearful  mon- 
sters of  death.  How  came  they  there,  and  what  did 
they  betoken?  A  new  horror  seemed  to  meet  her  at 
every  step. 

Her  cry  of  fear  had  been  the  result  of  overstrained 


158  FREE   TO    SERVE 

nerves.  She  repressed  it  almost  before  it  was  uttered, 
but  the  answer  came  at  the  instant,  and  came  in  the 
form  of  a  short,  sharp  yelp,  sounding  from  somewhere 
out  in  the  darkness.  It  was  followed  by  the  rushing 
sound  of  an  animal  bounding  towards  her.  Aveline 
stood  still,  uncertain  whether  to  regard  the  approach 
of  the  dog  as  a  new  danger,  or  the  sign  of  coming 
help.       He  might  be  savage,  and  she  was  a  stranger. 

While  she  waited,  she  discerned  a  tiny  point  of  light, 
that  sprang  into  existence  from  the  distant  gloom,  and 
seemed  to  be  coming  towards  her.  It  gave  her  cour- 
age to  speak  to  the  dark  object  that  with  a  bound  and 
a  growl  was  upon  her.  At  the  sound  of  her  voice  the 
growl  subsided,  and  the  dog  came  to  a  stand,  but  so 
close  to  her  feet  as  to  give  her  a  shuddering  sense  of 
insecurity.  The  animal  might  partake  of  the  gener- 
ally dangerous  character  of  the  place,  and  be  meditat- 
ing a  covert  attack.  Her  voice  was  low  and  appealing. 
It  reached  other  ears  than  those  of  the  dog,  though  it 
was  too  faint  for  the  words  to  be  distinguished.  A 
sharp  whistle  summoned  the  animal  from  his  self-im- 
posed guard,  and  he  went  bounding  back  to  where 
the  point  of  light  was  resolving  itself  into  the  rays  from 
a  lantern  carried  in  a  man's  hand.  Aveline  awaited  its 
approach.  The  sense  of  human  companionship  made 
the  lonely  night  less  terrible,  yet,  as  the  light  came 
nearer,  she  could  not  forbear  turning  her  eyes  once 
more  towards  those  white  skulls,  as  one  by  one  they 
flashed  into  sight,  and  faded  again  into  the  general 
blackness  upon  the   passing  of  the  lantern. 

The  stranger  approached.  He  lifted  his  lantern  so 
that  its  light  fell  upon  the  figure  of  the  girl  standing  in 
the  rain. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here,  my  girl?  "  he  asked,  in  a 
tone  that,  though  authoritative,  was  not  unkind. 

"  I  was  seeking  shelter,  but  —  these  ^ —  " 


FREE   TO   SERVE  159 

Aveline  shuddered,  and  glanced  again  in  the  direction 
of  the  field. 

He  did  not  understand.  He  was  too  much  occupied 
with  looking  at  her. 

"  You  are  —  you  must  be  —  the  serving-maid  of  whom 
my  brother  spoke,"  he  said. 

Aveline  inclined  her  head.  He  noted  the  gesture, 
and  wondered. 

"Your  mistress,"  —  he  hesitated  —  "my  mother,  is 
away,  but  that  should  afford  no  excuse  for  a  young  maid 
wandering  thus  in  the  darkness." 

She  lifted  her  face,  and  the  light  of  the  lantern  fell 
full  upon  it.  He  had  not  seen  it  clearly  before.  Her 
eyes  were  dim  with  tears  that  did  not  fall,  and  her  lips 
trembled  as  she  pressed  them  together  to  keep  back 
the  expression  of  her  loneliness  and  fear.  He  uttered 
an  exclamation  of  surprise,  and  his  face  perceptibly 
changed. 

"  You  have  lost  your  way,"  he  said  gently,  "  and  the 
storm  has  frightened  you.  Come.  I  will  take  you  to 
Ryseck  Schredel.  She  will  find  you  dry  clothing,  and 
in  the  shelter  of  the  good  woman's  house  you  will  forget 
the  storm." 

Aveline  looked  into  his  face.  He  was  like  his  brother, 
but  younger  by  some  years,  and  there  was  an  utter  ab- 
sence of  that  bold  recklessness  which  she  had  come  to 
fear  in  the  other.  Even  in  that  first  glance  she  knew 
that  he  would  take  no  undue  advantage  of  her  position. 

"  Nay,"  she  said,  and  there  was  a  plaintive  ring  in  her 
voice  that  to  the  young  man's  ears  was  an  appeal  for 
help,  "  it  was  from  Ryseck  Schredel  that  I  was  hastening 
when  I  came  to  —  this  dreadful  place.  Your  brother  bade 
me  seek  her,  and  I  went.  But  she  is  a  fierce  woman, 
and  her  tongue  is  rougher  than  her  hand." 

"What!  She  laid  hand  on  you?"  said  the  young 
man. 


i6o  FREE   TO    SERVE 

"  She  pushed  me  from  her  door  with  force  that  almost 
sent  me  into  the  mire,"  said  Aveline,  with  some  indig- 
nation. 

A  glimmer  of  a  smile  played  about  the  lips  that 
quickly  drew  themselves  into  their  normal  lines. 

"  Ryseck  was  uncivil,"  he  said.  "Yet  she  is  a  good 
woman.  Unwittingly  you  must  have  offended  her,  and 
I  know  to  my  cost  that  when  once  Ryseck's  tongue  is 
loosed,  it  can  wag  with  energy  enough  to  be  a  terror  to 
the  unfortunate  offender.  I  will  return  with  you,  and 
explain.  Possibly  she  knew  not  who  you  were,  though 
my  brother  said  that  he  had  already  dispatched  one  of 
the  negroes  to  warn  her  to  show  you  all  consideration. 
I  do  not  wonder  that  you  were  afraid.  Surely  it  is  a 
sorry  home-coming  to  be  thus  lost  in  the  storm." 

"  Sir,"  said  Aveline,  "would  it  not  be  possible  to  find 
some  other  shelter,  some  shed  or  outhouse  where  I 
should  be  safe  until —     Oh,  I  cannot  go  there  again  !  " 

Her  self-control  gave  way.  The  thought  of  meeting 
that  fierce  Dutchwoman  was  too  much  for  her  shaken 
nerves.     She  clasped  her  hands  in  entreaty. 

The  young  man  showed  signs  of  surprise,  but  his 
voice  was,   if  anything,  more  gentle  than  before. 

"  You  cannot  stay  here  all  night,"  he  said.  "  There 
is  no  fit  place  to  shelter  you.  Unfortunately  my  mother 
is  away.  Were  it  not  so,  I  would  take  you  at  once  to 
the  house.  But  there  is  no  white  woman  there,  and 
you  would  possibly  find  more  to  fear  in  the  faces  of 
the  negroes  than  in  the  sharp  tongue  of  good  Ryseck 
herself." 

He  stopped,  and  looked  inquiringly  at  Aveline.  She 
did  not  speak.  A  hopeless  feeling,  a  sense  of  being 
hemmed  in  by  fate,  a  conviction  that  there  was  no  way 
of  escape,  was  settling  upon  her.  Black-faced  slaves 
in  the  house,  bleached  skulls  outside,  and  that  old 
Dutchwoman,  with  her  strong,  aggressive  arms  and  her 


FREE   TO    SERVE  i6i 

angry  tongue,  as  the  only  alternative  —  it  was  a  choice 
of  evils.  Just  now,  in  the  darkness  and  storm,  the 
prospect  looked  equally  uninviting  on  every  side. 

"  Trust  yourself  to  me.  I  promise  you  I  will  bring 
you  to  light  and  safety,"  said  the  young  man,  taking 
her  hand  within  his  own,  and  moving  a  step  forward. 
"See,  the  storm  is  coming  up.     You  cannot  stay  here." 

There  was  kind  friendliness  in  the  firm  grasp  of  his 
fingers,  and  sympathy  in  his  voice.  Aveline  surrendered 
herself  to  him,  and  he  led  her  back  by  the  way  she  had 
come,  holding  the  lantern  so  that  it  revealed  the  deep 
pools  and  treacherous  mud.  The  dog,  obedient  to  a 
command  from  his  master,  followed  soberly  in  the  rear. 
Thus  Aveline  retraced  her  steps  to  the  Dutchwoman's 
house.  But  not  to  the  front  door.  Her  guide  knew 
better  than  to  take  her  there.  Even  he  would  not  be 
exempt  from  the  outpouring  of  Ryseck's  wrath  if  he 
should  dare  to  set  foot  on  her  clean  step.  For  it  was 
clean  again.  Every  trace  of  the  mud  from  Aveline's 
shoes  had  been  washed  away.  Ryseck  had  been  down 
on  her  knees  in  the  opening,  scrubbing  and  wiping,  till 
water,  pure,  clean  water,  without  a  trace  of  anything 
else,  shone  conspicuously  on  her  step.  The  young 
man  picked  his  way  round  to  the  back  of  the  house, 
and  stopped  before  the  door  of  a  shed.  Even  here  he 
stood  back  as  he  knocked,  careful  lest  his  feet  should 
touch  the  wooden  step. 

"  Ryseck!  Good  Ryseck!"  he  called.  He  spoke  in 
Dutch,  and  his  voice  quickly  brought  a  response.  Ave- 
line could  not  suppress  a  shiver  of  apprehension  as  she 
heard  again  the  heavy  tread  of  the  Dutchwoman,  and 
waited  for  the  door  to  be  opened.  But  when  Ryseck's 
eye  fell  on  the  girl  and  her  escort,  it  had  in  it  nothing 
of  its  former  fierce  glitter.  She  stood  looking,  from  one 
to  the  other  inquiringly. 

"  I  have  brought  you  a  stranger  whom  I  found  flee- 


1 62  FREE   TO    SERVE 

ing  from  us  as  if  from  a  band  of  the  wild  men,"  said  the 
young  man.  "  She  was  wandering  in  the  roadway, 
frightened  and  wet.  I  told  her  that  from  you  she 
would  receive  as  true  a  welcome  as  if  my  mother  her- 
self were  here  to  look  after  her." 

He  smiled  and  looked  towards  Aveline.  The  woman 
answered  him  in  vigorous  style,  and  ended  by  pointing 
to  Aveline's  shoes.  He  shook  his  head,  and  said  a 
word  or  two  in  response.  Somehow,  in  his  voice,  Ave- 
line did  not  think  the  strange  tongue  so  outlandish. 
The  Dutchwoman  listened,  and  her  face  relaxed.  A 
laugh  began  to  play  round  the  wrinkles  of  her  mouth. 
She  replied  in  a  different  tone.  The  young  man  turned 
to  Aveline. 

"  You  and  Ryseck  did  not  quite  understand  each 
other,"  he  said  kindly.  "  Our  good  Ryseck's  objection 
was  not  to  you,  but  to  the  mud  you  unwillingly  brought 
with  you.  She  is  so  thorough  a  Dutchwoman  that  dirt 
is  to  her  something  more  than  an  abomination.  Muddy 
feet  are  a  sacrilege,  especially  on  her  front  step,  and 
—  our  roads  are  bad." 

He  glanced  with  a  comical  smile  at  his  own  feet,  and 
then  at  Aveline's.  Then  he  turned  to  the  woman  again, 
and  apparently  asked  a  question.  For  answer  came  an- 
other burst  of  words.     He  cut  them  short  with  a  laugh. 

"  Will  you  let  me  help  you  to  your  first  experience 
of  Dutch  customs?"  he  said,  his  eyes  twinkling  a  little 
as  they  rested  on  Aveline.  "  Real  Dutch,  not  altogether 
our  colonial  customs." 

He  stooped  in  the  mud  and  rain,  and  began  to  loosen 
the  shoes  on  Aveline's  feet. 

"  You  will  be  very  welcome  when  you  come  without 
an  accompaniment  of  dirt,"  he  said.  "  And  you  must 
forgive  Ryseck  if  she  saw  the  mud  before  she  looked  at 
you.  If  she  had  looked  further,  I  think  she  would  have 
forgotten  the  mud." 


FREE   TO   SERVE  163 

His  smile  was  so  kind  that  Aveline's  lips  could  not 
but  relax. 

"  There,"  he  said,  when  one  shoe  was  ready  for 
removal,  "  now  if  you  will  step  out  of  this,  and  put  the 
dry  foot  inside  the  house,  I  will  set  you  free  from  some 
more  of  our  New  York  mire." 

The  tense  look  was  going  from  Aveline's  face.  When 
she  stood  inside,  and  looked  down  at  her  stockings  and 
then  up  at  the  Dutchwoman,  she  could  not  forbear  a 
smile.  The  woman  nodded  and  laughed.  She  said 
something  to  the  young  man. 

"  Ryseck  says  that  if  you  will  stand  just  where  you  are 
she  will  bring  you  dry  clothes,"  he  explained.  "  Better 
let  her  have  her  own  way.  She  will  never  be  happy 
until  she  does.  But  you  must  not  be  afraid  of  her. 
Trust  yourself  to  her.  She  is  a  good  woman,  if  her 
tongue  is  terrible." 

He  had  taken  Aveline's  hand  again  to  help  her  out 
of  the  shoe.     He  retained  it  for  a  moment. 

"  Good-night,"  he  said.  "To-morrow  the  storm  will 
have  passed,  and  as  for  us,  we  shall  not  seem  quite  such 
heathen  to  you  when  you  know  us  better." 

Aveline  answered  him  with  eyes  that  were  shining 
through  the  tears.  But  in  spite  of  the  tears  she  was 
comforted,  and  she  was  not  sure  that  even  to-night  she 
thought  them  all  heathen. 


1 64  FREE   TO    SERVE 


CHAPTER   XVI 

"  'W  "^  TELL,  what  luck?    Are  decent  maids  as  scarce 

%/%/    as  ever?  " 
▼    ▼  The  speaker,  a  Httle,  thin  elderly  lady,  with 

small  sharp  features,  and  an  eye  that  went  to  the  heart 
of  things  at  the  first  glance,  alighted  nimbly  from  her 
horse,  waiting  for  no  assistance  from  the  tall  son  who 
came  to  meet  her. 

"  Scarce  enough,"  replied  Geysbert  Feljer,  looking 
down  at  her  with  a  peculiar  smile.  "  But  you'll  have  no 
further  need  to  complain  of  their  scarcity,  at  least  for 
five  years  to  come." 

"What?  You  have  brought  me  one  at  last?  And 
for  five  years  ?  How  —  surely  you  have  not  been  fool- 
ish enough  to  bring  me  a  bond-servant?  " 

"  And  what  if  I  have?  " 

"  What  if  you  have?  Hear  the  boy!  Truly  a  man's 
head  has  less  that's  useful  in  it  than  any  other  recepta- 
cle of  the  same  size.  Haven't  I  told  you  over  and  again 
that  I  wanted  a  maid  I  could  trust?  Such  a  wench  as 
you  have  brought  may  be  well  enough,  but  we've  slaves 
in  plenty  to  do  the  roti^^h  work.  What  should  I  want 
with  a  bond-servant,  and  for  five  years  too?  " 

Geysbert  laughed. 

"  Surely  I'm  between  two  fires,"  he  said.  "There's 
Helmer  here  vexing  his  soul  that  I  have  bought  and 
paid  for  a  damsel  too  delicately  nurtured  for  contact 
with  such  rough  mortals  as  ourselves,  and  you  disturb- 
ing your  peace  of  mind  with  the  anticipation  of  a  coarse 
untutored  wench,  fit  only  for  intercourse  with  slaves. 
The  next  time  I  move  heaven  and  earth  to  find  me  a 


FREE   TO   SERVE  165 

maid,  I  venture  to  predict  it  will  be  only  myself  I  shall 
attempt  to  please." 

"Helmer?  What  has  he  to  do  with  it?"  said  the 
lady.  "  He  has  not  been  to  New  York  to  waste  money 
over  useless  maids." 

She  spoke  sharply,  but  she  smiled  as  she  met  the  eye 
of  her  younger  son,  who  stood  with  one  hand  resting  on 
the  neck  of  his  father's  horse.  The  old  man,  for  he  was 
some  years  older  than  his  wife,  was  taller  than  either 
of  his  sons.  He  rode  a  large  horse,  and  the  appearance 
of  both  horse  and  rider  spoke  much  for  the  good  cheer  of 
the  land.  Pieter  Feljer  had  been  in  his  day  a  splendid 
specimen  of  Dutch  manhood,  and  his  day  was  not  yet 
fully  over.  He  was  a  trifle  bent,  a  little  less  sprightly  than 
in  his  young  years,  but  he  could  hold  his  own  yet 
with  the  later  generation.  His  blue  eyes  were  twink- 
ling merrily  at  the  encounter  between  Geysbert  and  his 
mother. 

"  Better  look  at  the  maid,  and  judge  for  yourself,"  he 
said,  but  his  words  were  not  in  the  language  in  which 
the  others  had  spoken.  Pieter  Feljer  was  a  Dutchman 
through  and  through,  and  though  he  could  on  occasion 
speak  in  the  tongue  that  was  gaining  ground  in  the  land, 
its  sounds  were  not  at  home  on  his  lips. 

"  Little  good  looking  will  do,  since  Geysbert  has 
been  foolish  enough  to  pay  the  price,"  was  the  answer. 
*'  What  the  lad  could  have  been  thinking  of  to  do  such 
a  deed  is  more  than  I  can  tell." 

"  Geysbert,  tell  your  tale  and  done  with  it,"  said  the 
younger  brother.  "  What  is  the  use  of  arousing  fears 
that  are  without  foundation?" 

"  Not  I,"  said  Geysbert  stoutly.  "  I  have  been  ac- 
cused of  folly.  Let  my  action  speak  for  itself.  I'm 
going  to  fetch  the  damsel." 

He  started  off  with  a  swinging  step  that  carried  him 
rapidly  down  the  hill  upon  which  the  house  stood,  and 


1 66  FREE   TO   SERVE 

left  Helmer  to  explain  or  not,  as  he  chose.  The  young 
man  had  not  much  to  tell.  He  had  found  Geysbert 
particularly  uncommunicative  on  the  subject.  When 
he  left  Ryseck  Schredel's  door  on  the  previous  night, 
he  naturally  sought  his  brother,  anxious  to  learn  more 
about  the  girl  whose  evident  terror  had  appealed  to 
him  strongly.  He  found  Geysbert  out  of  temper,  and 
not  quite  in  a  state  to  give  a  clear  account  of  either 
himself  or  his  charge.  By  dint  of  questioning  he 
learned  something  of  Aveline's  story,  but  when  he  vent- 
ured on  the  opinion  that  it  would  have  been  more  mer- 
ciful to  have  left  her  where  she  was,  Geysbert  turned 
on  him  fiercely. 

"Much  you  know  about  it,"  he  said.  "You'd  be 
soft-hearted  enough,  I  doubt  not,  to  refuse  the  bargain 
yourself,  and  leave  it  to  one  who  would  know  better 
how  to  use  it.  The  girl  may  think  herself  fortunate 
that  she  has  fallen  into  honest  hands." 

And  then  he  went  off  in  a  rage,  and  Helmer  had  not 
approached  the  subject  again. 

Madame  Feljer  shook  her  head  over  the  story. 

"  I  doubt  the  foolish  lad  has  made  a  sorry  bungle  of 
his  bargaining,"  she  said.  "  A  pretty  face,  forsooth ! 
'Tis  a  steady,  hard-working  maid  I  want.  A  stuck-up 
manner  and  a  handsome  face  will  not  bring  me  the 
value  of  my  money." 

"  Nonsense  !  Give  the  lad  a  chance  to  show  whether 
or  not  he  be  in  the  right,"  interposed  her  husband. 
"Surely  it  is  one-sided  work  to  judge  him  unheard." 

It  was  not  long  before  Geysbert  returned  — alone. 

"  Your  curiosity  will  have  time  to  sharpen  itself,"  he 
said.  "The  fair  maid  is  missing.  She  went  out  almost 
an  hour  ago,  Ryseck  says  towards  the  river.  Our  new 
possession  bids  fair  to  afford  some  diversion." 

He  spoke  lightly,  but  in  reality  he  was  not  a  little  per- 
turbed.    He  believed  that  Aveline  had  made  an  attempt 


FREE   TO    SERVE  i6;r 

to  escape,  and  he  felt  himself  to  blame.  He  did  not 
doubt  that  he  had  been  in  part  responsible  for  her  terror 
the  night  before.  He  would  have  gone  to  Ryseck's 
house  earlier  had  not  pride  stood  in  his  way.  The  girl 
had  refused  his  escort,  and  chosen  to  be  offended  at  his 
advances.  He  had  felt  inclined  to  leave  her  to  herself, 
to  let  circumstances  teach  her  her  mistake.  Now  he 
was  vexed,  and  a  little  afraid  —  for  Aveline's  sake.  He 
well  knew  that  any  attempt  to  escape  could  only  prove 
disastrous  to  the  girl  herself 

"  A  pretty  piece  of  business  this  !  "  said  the  little  Dutch 
lady,  with  a  keen  look  into  Geysbert's  face.  "  What 
kind  is  the  girl,  that  she  thus  attempts  to  run  off  without 
reason?  " 

"  Oh,  the  girl's  right  enough,"  said  Geysbert  shortly. 
"  She  has  but  taken  fright  at  Ryseck's  strength  of  lung. 
Ten  to  one  she's  not  far  off,  and  will  be  glad  enough  to 
return.  But  if  not,  so  much  the  better  for  your  peace  of 
mind,"  he  added  slily.  "  You  will  then  not  be  troubled 
with  a  bought  maid." 

"  Can  you  name  the  time  when  I  shall  not  be  troubled 
with  a  foolish  lad?  "  said  his  mother  sharply.  "  Go  you 
and  look  for  the  wench,  and  bring  her  here  to  me." 

Geysbert's  face  was  not  quite  pleasant  to  look  upon 
as  he  turned  away  from  the  house.  He  was  vexed  with 
himself,  and  therefore  angry  with  Aveline.  He  passed 
several  of  the  slaves,  but  he  would  not  condescend  to  ask 
them  whether  they  had  seen  the  girl.  If  he  had  done 
so,  he  might  have  learned  that  he  was  going  in  the  wrong- 
direction.  They  could  have  told  him,  for  Aveline  had 
passed  their  quarters,  walking  away  from  the  river. 
Such  of  them  as  were  there  had  trooped  out  to  look 
at  her,  their  faces  broad  with  curiosity. 

As  for  Aveline  herself,  she  had  no  thought  of  awaken- 
ing either  suspicion  or  curiosity.  She  had  slept  long, 
and,  it  seemed  to  her,  late.     The  excitement  of  the  night 


1 68  FREE   TO   SERVE 

had  drawn  on  her  resources,  and  nature  was  taking 
revenge.  When  she  awoke,  the  sun  was  high,  and  she 
experienced  the  sensation  of  being  abed  in  the  middle 
of  the  day.  It  was  not  as  late  as  that,  yet  it  was  late 
enough  for  breakfast  to  be  over  in  Ryseck's  kitchen,  and 
for  the  good  woman  to  be  about  her  work. 

Aveline's  first  impulse  was  to  go  to  the  window.  In 
spite  of  her  reasonings  with  herself,  she  expected  to  see 
some  weird  spot,  where  nature  and  man  were  alike  sav- 
age. What  she  saw  was  a  large  roomy-looking  house 
set  on  a  hill.  It  stood  at  some  distance  from  Ryseck's 
cottage,  and  was  approached  by  a  long  grassy  slope, 
broken  with  trees.  The  first  impression  it  gave  was  one 
of  openness.  The  wide  piazza  which  sheltered  its  long 
front  was  deep  enough  for  a  dwelling  place,  and  the 
broad  hillside  stretched  from  its  door  into  cultivated 
fields,  down  to  the  level  where  Aveline  knew  the  Hud- 
son flowed,  though  she  could  not  see  it  fro^  where  she 
stood.  When  she  turned  towards  the  back  of  the  house 
there  came  to  her  a  comfortable  feeling  of  shelter.  A 
low  hill,  that  yet  overtopped  the  height  upon  which  the 
manor  house  was  built,  shut  it  in  from  the  westerly 
winds,  and  formed  a  barrier  between  this  cultivated  spot 
and  the  great  unbroken  land  lying  far  to  the  west.  It 
was  a  wooded  eminence  that  ran  back  towards  the 
higher  hills,  a  link  between  the  cleared  land  below  and 
the  great  stretch  of  forest  behind  and  above.  Of  the 
forest  itself  there  was  no  end.  It  started  on  the  foot- 
hills, which  seemed  to  surround  the  place,  and  mounted 
up  and  up  till  it  crowned  the  mountain  background  of 
the  picture.  In  spite  of  herself  Aveline  felt  the  peace 
and  beauty  of  the  scene  stealing  over  her.  Here,  surely, 
was  no  savage  land. 

The  picture  showed  no  trace  of  life,  until,  as  she  was 
turning  to  go  down-stairs.,  Geysbert  Feljer  came  round 
the  side  of  the  house.     An  unacknowledged  feeling  of 


FREE   TO    SERVE  169 

disappointment  came  with  the  conviction  that  he  was 
bound  for  Ryseck's  cottage.  Avehne  had  half  expected, 
she  could  not  have  told  why,  that  his  younger  brother 
would  have  been  the  first  to  greet  her. 

She  went  cautiously  down  the  stairs.  Ryseck  Schre- 
del,  with  her  Dutch  tongue,  was  still  to  her  the  embodi- 
ment of  danger.  She  was  not  certain  that  she  might 
not  unwittingly  commit  some  new  and  heinous  trans- 
gression, and  draw  upon  herself  a  fresh  outburst  of  the 
Dutchwoman's  wrath. 

Ryseck  was  in  the  kitchen,  apparently  engaged  in  a 
careful  search  for  some  treasured  but  lost  possession. 
Aveline's  first  impulse  was  to  offer  assistance,  for  the 
Dutchwoman  was  down  on  hands  and  knees,  laboriously 
poking  a  sharpened  stick  into  the  cracks  of  the  boarded 
floor.  Before  she  could  set  foot  on  the  threshold,  how- 
ever, Ryseck  looked  up  and  frantically  waved  her  back. 
Then  Aveline  perceived  that,  although  the  Dutchwoman 
was  searching  for  something,  it  was  not  for  treasure. 
The  good  woman  was  only  waging  her  usual  warfare 
against  dirt,  trying  to  keep  her  portion  of  the  world 
clean  by  poking  out  the  dust  that  in  minute  portions 
had  gathered  in  the  cracks.  The  poking  process  was 
followed  by  a  vigorous  scrubbing  with  soap  and  water, 
and  not  until  the  last  bit  of  floor  was  rubbed  till  it 
shone,  did  Ryseck  look  up  and  give  the  girl  a  welcom- 
ing nod.  The  nod  was  accompanied  by  a  steady  inves- 
tigating gaze,  a  manifest  weighing  of  the  merits  and 
demerits  of  the  stranger. 

Ryseck  understood  matters  a  little  more  fully  than  she 
had  done  over  night.  Philip. Schredel,  the  stolid  Dutch 
husband  of  good  Dutch  Ryseck,  had  been  in  the  barn 
when  Geysbert  brought  Aveline  home,  and  Philip  knew 
a  word  or  two  of  English.  Moreover,  he  was  of  an 
inquiring  mind,  and  Geysbert's  tongue  was  not  altogether 
unde"   the   control    of  his  brain  that  night.     Therefore 


I70  FREE   TO    SERVE 

Philip  was  able  to  tell  Ryseck  enough  to  make  her 
desire  to  know  more.  She  had  only  her  eyes  to  depend 
upon,  but  Ryseck  Schredel's  eyes  were  inquisitors  not 
to  be  despised.  They  told  her  the  girl  was  beautiful, 
not  with  the  beauty  of  the  Dutch  girls  she  knew,  though 
her  skin  was  as  fair  as  that  of  the  most  renowned  pink 
and  white  belle  among  them.  This  maiden  was  some- 
thing more  than  fair.  The  delicate,  clear-cut  features, 
and  the  mass  of  softest  brown  hair,  belonged  to  a  head 
that  held  itself  proudly.  The  girl  was  a  beauty,  so 
undeniably  a  beauty  that  Ryseck  emphatically  shook 
her  head.  What  did  young  Geysbert  want  with  a  girl  of 
that  stamp  as  a  maid  for  his  mother?  The  good  lady 
needed  a  maid  who  would  be  of  use  to  her.  As  for  this 
lass  —  Ryseck  shook  her  head  more  decidedly.  It  was 
clear  enough  that  she  was  born  to  be  served,  and  not  to 
serve. 

Aveline  felt  the  disapproval  in  that  head-shaking. 
She  drew  herself  up  a  little  haughtily. 

But  the  Dutchwoman's  inquisition  went  further,  even 
to  Aveline's  eyes,  and  then  she  forgot  to  shake  her  head, 
or  to  continue  her  scrutiny.  She  found  so  much  to  read 
in  those  big  brown  eyes.  Foremost  of  all  she  saw  the 
pride —  a  hurt,  smarting  pride,  that  came  to  the  aid  of 
and  stood  guard  over  all  other  emotions —  and  back  of 
the  pride  a  wistful  patience,  holding  pain  and  fear  in 
check,  while  far  down  beneath  them  all  was  a  depth  of 
loneliness  that  touched  on  despair.  The  Dutchwoman 
did  not  read  all  these  clearly,  but  she  spelt  out  enough 
of  them  to  reach  her  honest,  kindly  heart,  and  she  ended 
her  scrutiny  by  taking  the  astonished  girl  into  a  pair 
of  motherly  arms,  and  planting  a  sounding  kiss  on  her 
cheek.  Then  Ryseck  laughed  and  released  her,  pushing 
her  into  a  chair,  and  busying  herself  with  setting  break- 
fast before  her. 

It  was  after  breakfast  that  Aveline  grew  tired  of  wait- 


FREE   TO    SERVE  171 

ing.  Geysbert  had  not  come,  as  she  expected.  But 
neither  had  Helmer.  The  sun  was  shining  invitingly, 
and  there  was  over  her  a  sort  of  fascination,  which  drew 
her  to  the  scene  of  her  last  night's  terror.  She  stepped 
outside  Ryseck's  door  —  the  back  door.  She  stood 
there  for  a  minute,  and  then  turned  towards  the  river. 
Some  strange-looking  objects  had  attracted  her  atten- 
tion. Did  these  people  delight  in  nothing  but  grotesque 
or  weird  arrangements? 

The  objects  in  question  formed  part  of  the  end  wall 
of  a  long  building,  or  row  of  buildings.  Afterwards, 
when  she  came  to  the  front  of  the  structure,  Aveline 
found  that  it  formed  the  slaves'  quarters.  Just  now  her 
attention  was  engrossed  by  what  looked  like  an  attempt 
at  ornamentation.  Some  thirty-odd  hats,  —  Aveline  had 
the  curiosity  to  count  them,  —  their  shapes  betokening 
the  various  periods  to  which  their  better  days  belonged, 
occupied  prominent  positions  on  the  end  wall,  to  which 
their  brims  were  affixed  by  nails.  As  though  desirous  of 
adding  yet  more  to  their  ornamental  character,  the  de- 
signer of  the  unique  adornment  had  cut  a  round  hole  in 
the  crown  of  every  hat.  The  effect  was  peculiar  enough 
to  bring  a  smile  to  Aveline's  lips  as  she  strolled  round 
the  long,  low  building.  At  the  sight  of  woolly  heads 
and  black  faces  in  the  doorways  she  quickened  her  steps, 
and,  making  a  circuit,  came  out  again  into  the  road  she 
had  followed  in  the  darkness  of  the  previous  night. 

After  all  it  was  Helmer,  and  not  Geysbert,  who  found 
the  missing  maid.  In  precisely  the  same  spot  where  his 
dog  Kip  had  come  across  her  the  night  before,  he  saw 
her  standing.  Without  giving  the  action  a  thought, 
Helmer  came  to  a  stand  too.  He  forgot  to  move  for- 
ward because  he  was  fully  occupied  with  looking.  He 
could  not  fairly  have  been  said  to  have  seen  her  before. 
The  light  from  his  own  lantern,  and  from  Ryseck's  Sfnit- 
tering  tallow  candle,  had   not  been  sufficient  to  show 


172  FREE   TO    SERVE 

fully  the  sweet  girlish  face,  with  features  perfect  enough 
for  beauty,  and  not  too  perfect  for  that  peculiar  charm 
to  which  a  little  imperfection  is  essential.  The  colour 
had  returned  to  Aveline's  cheeks,  and  a  half  smile  played 
on  her  lips.  Her  hand  was  resting  on  one  of  the  self- 
same posts  from  which  she  had  recoiled  in  horror  the 
previous  night,  and  her  face  was  upturned  towards  —  a 
skull.  She  had  not  been  mistaken,  yet  she  smiled. 
The  light  of  awakened  interest  was  in  her  face.  For  the 
moment  she  had  forgotten  herself  and  her  fate,  and  it 
was  upon  the  Aveline  of  Eastenholme  that  Helmer  was 
looking.  Not  once  had  Geysbert  seen  her  thus.  Her 
eye  swept  round  the  paddock,  the  fence  of  which  was 
uniformly  ornamented  with  those  white  emblems  of  death. 
Already  to  Aveline  they  were  speaking  of  life  rather 
than  of  decay,  for  in  and  out,  using  the  eyes  for  doors, 
came  and  went  a  colony  of  birds,  too  tame  as  well  as 
too  busy  in  providing  for  the  families  within,  to  pay 
any  attention  to  the  stranger.  Every  post  was  crowned 
with  a  skull,  and  every  skull  was  the  habitation  of  a 
bird  family. 

"  You  are  making  the  acquaintance  of  some  of  our 
tenants,  I  see,"  said  Helmer,  when  he  had  studied  her 
face  so  thoroughly  that  he  could  not  in  all  conscience 
watch  her  longer. 

She  turned  hastily,  and  her  acknowledgment  was  a 
mixture  of  womanly  ease,  born  of  the  associations  of 
her  life,  and  a  gentle  reserve  that  feared  to  overstep  the 
bounds  of  present  circumstances. 

For  the  moment  Helmer  experienced  an  unwonted 
sensation  of  rusticity,  of  being  weighed  down  with  colo- 
nial habits  and  surroundings.  In  spite  of  the  awkward- 
ness of  her  position,  there  was  a  grace,  a  high-bred 
dignity,  about  this  maiden,  that  for  the  first  time  in  his 
life  brought  home  to  the  young  man  the  consciousness 
that  there  was  another  circle  than  the  one  in  which  he 


FREE   TO    SERVE  173 

moved,  and  in  which  he  held  a  recognized  place.  Who 
was  she,  this  girl  of  whom  he  must  think  simply  as  his 
mother's  maid? 

"  They  are  houses  for  the  birds,"  she  said,  and  her 
voice  in  no  way  detracted  from  the  charm  of  her  looks. 
"  Last  night  —  " 

"  You  were  startled  by  them." 

A  new  light  was  dawning  upon  him.  He  thought  he 
could  better  understand  her  fears. 

"  I  would  have  explained  if  I  had  known,"  he  said. 
•*  We  must  have  seemed  to  you  a  set  of  wild  people, 
since  we  thrust  our  —  visitors  —  out  into  the  storm, 
fenced  our  fields  with  skulls,  and  —  were  there  any  more 
dreadful  things  we  did?  " 

He  was  standing  quite  close  to  her  now,  smiling  down 
upon  her.  Her  face  flushed  at  the  question.  She  was 
thinking  of  Geysbert.  He  saw  the  flush,  and  the 
momentary  hesitation,  and  his  smile  died  away.  Were 
they  a  set  of  savages,  that  they  had  given  this  girl  such 
cause  to  think  ill  of  them?  She  had  dropped  her  eyes 
to  hide  her  confusion.     Now  she  lifted  them  again. 

"  I  was  afraid,  until  —  you  were  good  to  me,"  she 
said. 

*'  And  Ryseck?  Did  she  keep  her  hands  to  their 
legitimate  tasks?"  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  yes.  And  she  was  kind,  I  think.  But  I  cannot 
understand  a  word  she  says,  and  I  am  afraid  of  making 
her  angry  again.     She  was  terribly  fierce." 

"  Yes.  Ryseck  has  a  tongue.  I'm  not  sure,  on  the 
whole,  that  it  is  not  a  Dutch  possession.  But  you  will 
know  us  better  soon,  and  I  trust  you  will  find  that,  like 
the  skulls  here,  we  are  not  as  dangerous  as  we  seem." 

"  Did  you  put  them  here  on  purpose  for  the  birds?  " 
asked  Aveline,  glad  to  give  the  conversation  a  less  per- 
sonal turn. 

"  I  am  afraid  we  must  not  take  credit  for  it  at  all," 


174  FREE   TO    SERVE 

was  the  reply.  "  It  is  a  fancy  the  negroes  have.  The 
head  of  every  animal  that  is  butchered  is  sacred  to  the 
birds,  and  little  by  little  the  slaves  have  ornamented  the 
fences  in  the  way  they  most  fully  approve  of.  Truly 
it  must  look  startling  to  a  stranger.  You  have  seen  how 
they  accommodate  their  tenants  nearer  home?  " 

"  No.  Oh,  you  do  not  mean  that  all  those  odd- 
looking  hats  nailed  to  the  boards  are  bird-houses 
too?  " 

"  Surely  they  are.  Our  negroes  are  not  pretty  to 
look  at,  but  there  is  something  to  be  said  for  them. 
They  love  the  birds,  and  are  fond  of  everything  that 
has  life." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence.  In  it  Helmer  re- 
membered that  his  mother  was  awaiting  an  interview 
with  her  maid. 

"  Last  night  I  was  unable  to  take  you  to  the  house," 
he  said.  "  Now  you  need  no  longer  depend  on  Ry- 
seck's  tender  mercies.  My  mother  has  returned,  and 
will  be  very  glad  to  see  you." 

She  gave  him  one  quick  look,  and  the  light  died 
from  her  face. 

"lam  ready,"  she  said.  "Perhaps  —  I  was  wrong 
to  come  here." 

"  Nay,  now  you  are  returning  to  your  evil  opinion  of 
us,"  he  said  deprecatingly.  "  My  mother  herself  must 
reassure  you." 

He  led  her  back,  not  by  the  road,  but  across  a  cor- 
ner of  the  field,  and  by  a  footpath  over  the  edge  of 
the  wooded  hill  in  the  rear  of  the  house.  Yielding  to 
an  instinct  of  courtesy,  he  refrained  from  ascending  the 
broad  steps  at  the  back  of  the  building,  by  which  he 
would  have  ushered  Aveline  into  the  house  by  a  back 
door. 

"  We  have  a  good  view  of  the  river  from  the  front 
stoop,"  he  said,  and  passed  round  to  the  wide  piazza. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  175 

stopping  a  moment  to  give  Aveline  time  to  combat  the 
shrinking  fear  that  almost  overpowered  her. 

The  door  opened  into  a  broad  hall,  which  ran  from 
front  to  back  of  the  house,  and  at  the  first  glance  Ave- 
line became  aware  that  the  room  was  tenanted.  A  lit- 
tle, elderly  lady,  with  eyes  dark  and  piercing,  was  sitting 
in  a  high-backed  chair.  Her  hands,  small  and  shapely, 
held  a  piece  of  knitting,  and  though  she  looked  sharply 
towards  the  door,  her  fingers  did  not  cease  their  quick 
movement. 

"  Mother,  I  have  brought  you  a  stranger,  who,  if  I 
mistake  not,  is  in  need  of  your  comfort,  as  you  are  in 
need  of  her  help.  She  has  formed  but  a  poor  opinion 
of  us  in  her  short  experience  in  our  midst." 

Helmer  advanced  towards  his  mother  as  he  spoke, 
and  Aveline  courtesied  low. 

"  Is  this  —  the  maid  of  whom  your  brother  spoke?  " 

The  little  lady  was  on  her  feet,  steadily  surveying 
this  specimen  of  English  youth  and  birth  so  suddenly 
introduced  into  her  presence. 

"  This  is  the  maiden,"  said  Helmer  quietly. 

There  was  a  long  silence.  Aveline  ventured  at  length 
to  raise  her  eyes.  The  lady  was  still  regarding  her  with 
unflinching  gaze,  and  as  she  met  the  clear,  sharp  eyes, 
a  wave  of  colour  spread  over  the  girl's  face. 

"  And  what  are  you  doing  here,  my  lass,  in  the  char- 
acter of  a  bond-servant  ?  "  asked  the  lady,  in  a  voice  clear 
and  penetrating,  the  sort  of  voice  that  commands  an 
answer. 

The  flush  on  Aveline's  face  deepened. 

"  I  am  trying  honestly  to  discharge  a  debt  that  came 
to  my  brother  and  myself  by  reason  of  unforeseen  cir- 
cumstances," she  said,  in  a  low,  firm  tone. 

"And  what  do  you  suppose  you  can  do  for  me?" 
asked  the  lady. 

"  Madam,  that  is  for  you  to  say,"  replied  Aveline.     "  I 


176  FREE    TO    SERVE 

will  try  to  do  all  that  you  desire.  In  the  "  —  Great 
House,  she  would  have  said,  but  she  changed  the  ex- 
pression quickly  —  "  house  of  my  aunt,  I  have  had  some 
experience  in  the  management  of  the  maids,  and  I  am 
not  unskilled  in  housekeeping  duties." 

Madam  Feljer,  as  the  tenants  styled  her,  made  no  an- 
swer, unless  the  sweep  of  her  eyes  over  the  face  and 
figure  of  the  speaker  might  be  accounted  an  answer. 

After  her  last  words  Aveline  stood  still,  with  that  per- 
fect stillness  which  comes  of  having  muscles  and  limbs 
under  the  control  of  a  steady,  trained  will.  She  was  on 
inspection,  and  she  awaited  the  verdict.  It  did  not 
come,  for  the  door  at  the  other  end  of  the  great,  roomy 
hall  opened,  and  a  fine,  portly  Dutch  gentleman,  with 
large,  kind,  blue  eyes,  stood  in  the  opening.  For  a 
minute  he  too  stood  silent;   then  he  entered. 

"  Whom  have  we  here?  "  he  asked,  and  though  he 
spoke  in  Dutch,  Aveline  felt  the  friendliness  of  the  tone. 

The  answer  came  from  Helmer.  Then  the  master  of 
the  house  advanced. 

"You  are  welcome,  my  dear,"  he  said,  in  measured 
tones,  as  if  the  English  words  came  painfully.  "  Pretty 
faces  are  not  so  plentiful  in  this  land  that  we  cannot 
well  find  room  for  another." 

He  came  towards  her,  and  held  out  his  hand.  Aveline 
placed  hers  in  it.  She  felt  the  fatherly  kindness  in  his 
tones. 

"  This  is  my  new  maid,"  said  madam,  in  Dutch. 

"  Maid  or  mistress,  I  care  not  a  straw,"  was  the  an- 
swer.    "  She  is  a  maid  worth  having,  that  I'll  swear." 

"  Little  you  know  about  it,  beyond  the  fact  that  the 
lass  has  a  pretty  face,"  was  the  contemptuous  answer. 
But  madam  turned  to  Aveline  and  said  :  "  Since  I  am 
to  take  you  into  my  service,  I  must  needs  know  your 
name." 

"  It  is  Aveline  Nevard,"  was  the  reply. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  177 

"  Truly  it  sounds  not  like  a  name  that  belongs  to  the 
people,"  said  the  lady. 

"  At  home  all  know  it  as  an  ancient  name,"  replied 
Aveline  quietly. 

"And  your  branch  of  the  family?  Is  it  gentle  or 
simple?  " 

"  My  father  was  the  younger  son,  my  uncle  inherited 
the  title,"  said  Aveline. 

"Title?     Come  you  of  titled  people?" 

Aveline  simply  inclined  her  head. 

"  There  must  be  something  wrong  here,"  said  the  lady. 
"  Some  sin  is  at  the  bottom  of  such  an  incongruity." 

Aveline  drew  herself  up  proudly. 

"Madam,"  she  said,  "if  you  are  dissatisfied  with  the 
arrangement,  I  doubt  not  that  in  a  few  days  my  brother 
will  appear,  and  then  it  would  be  a  kindness  —  how 
great  you  cannot  know — to  cancel  the  agreement. 
My  brother  would  gladly  pay  anything  extra  you  may 
desire,  if  he  might  see  me  free  again." 

"  Tut,  tut !  Not  so  fast.  I'm  not  sure  I  am  tired  of 
my  bargain  yet,"  was  the  reply.  "  A  maid's  a  maid, 
and  if  you  can  be  useful,  I'm  enough  in  want  of  one  to 
keep  you  to  your  bargain." 

"  And  kind  enough  to  give  her  a  welcome." 

"Welcome  —  yes,  if  she  wants  it." 

Madam  held  out  her  hand. 

"  Come,  young  maid,  let  us  be  friends  till  we  find 
some  good  reason  for  being  foes,"  she  said.  "  Come 
with  me  and  see  what  sort  of  a  house  you  have  to  over- 
look. There,  don't  look  so  scared.  I'm  not  going  to 
eat  you.  I  don't  know  but  that  we  can  find  you  a 
decent  room." 

She  led  the  way,  and  Aveline  followed.  As  she 
passed  through  one  of  the  doors  the  girl  turned,  and  by 
a  little  sweeping  inclination  of  the  head  acknowledged 
the  kindness  of  both  father  and  son. 


178  FREE   TO   SERVE 


CHAPTER   XVII 

THE  sun  was  pouring  slanting  rays  of  heat  into  an 
already  overheated  atmosphere.  He  had  been 
relentless  all  day,  and  now,  when  the  end  of  his 
fierce  reign  approached,  and  he  slowly  yielded  ground 
before  the  night,  he  seemed  to  take  a  savage  pleasure 
in  striking  with  his  fiery  beams  the  leaves  hanging 
motionless  on  the  trees,  and  the  limp,  hopeless  herbage 
that  appeared  fairly  to  gasp  in  the  baked  air.  Even 
the  broad  bosom  of  the  Hudson  was  hot  and  lifeless, 
until,  from  out  the  shadow  of  overhanging  trees,  shot  a 
canoe,  which  made  a  ripple  on  the  water,  and  brought 
a  suggestion  of  coolness. 

Of  all  the  objects  upon  which  the  sun  just  then  tried 
his  power,  the  taller  occupant  of  the  canoe  was  appar- 
ently the  least  affected  by  the  heat.  Big  drops  dripped 
from  the  brow  of  his  companion,  whose  glistening  black 
face  showed  signs  of  distress,  but  the  long  arm  of  the 
other  moved  easily.  He  was  a  man  of  middle  age,  tall 
and  browned,  and  the  lips  that  stirred  to  give  a  word  of 
direction  to  the  negro  settled  again  into  firm  lines. 
There  was  no  other  boat  on  the  river,  nor  sign  of  life 
along  its  banks,  but  overhead  a  hawk  hovered  for  a 
minute,  and  then  sailed  away  towards  the  dark  line  of 
mountain  just  here  in  full  view.  The  canoe  made  rapid 
headway,  and  the  black  outline  of  forest  along  the  west- 
ern shore  gave  place  to  cleared  land  and  fields  brown 
with  stubble,  till,  upon  the  brow  of  a  hill,  a  house  was 
seen,  keeping  guard  over  its  own  bit  of  civihzed  world. 
"A  goodly  cage,  but  none  the  less  a  prison,"  said  the 
stranger,  looking  long  at  the  dwelling.  "  Mischief  take 
the  lad  !      If  I'd  had  any  notion  of  what  was  coming,  I'd 


FREE   TO    SERVE  179 

have  left  him  in  his  first  pHght.  Far  enough  from  here 
he'd  have  been  then,  and  the  maid  — " 

He  broke  off  with  a  word  of  command,  and  the  canoe 
shot  in  towards  the  bank.  Before  it  touched  land  the 
stranger  sprang  ashore,  stood  for  a  minute  reconnoitring, 
then  gave  a  few  clear,  rapid  directions  to  the  negro,  and 
strode  off  into  a  wagon-track  that  led  towards  the  house. 
Midway  between  the  river  and  dwelling  he  met  a  young 
man. 

"  Good-day  to  you,  sir,"  he  said  in  Dutch.  "  Is  not 
yonder  the  Feljer  manor  house?  " 

"  It  is,"  replied  the  young  man  coldly,  "  What  may 
be  your  business  there  ?  " 

"  If  so  be  that  I  am  speaking  to  one  of  the  family,  it 
may  possibly  happen  that  I  have  none,"  was  the  answer, 
"  since  in  that  case  you  can  tell  me  whether  there  be 
here  a  young  English  maiden,  by  name  Aveline  Nevard." 

"  And  what  if  there  should  be?  "  said  Geysbert,  ey- 
ing him  suspiciously. 

"  In  that  case  I  must  even  go  on  to  the  house,  for  my 
business  is  both  with  the  maid  and  her  mistress,"  was  the 
answer. 

"What  do  you  want  with  either  one  or  the  other?  " 
asked  Geysbert.  "  I  know  of  none  who  has  claim  on 
the  maiden  except  her  brother,  and  the  eyes  of  a  blind 
man  would  suffice  to  tell  him  that  you  stand  not  in  that 
relationship." 

"  Truly  you  are  not  far  wrong.  I  lay  no  claim  to  be 
the  brother  of  any  fair  maiden,"  said  the  other,  with  a 
laugh,  "  yet  it  would  be  instructive  to  learn  on  what 
foundation  you  build  your  superstructure  of  opinion." 

"  Your  question  shows  either  a  complete  want  of  ac- 
quaintance with  the  maiden  for  whom  you  inquire,  or 
else  an  overweening  conceit,"  said  Geysbert  shortly. 

The  face  of  the  other  grew  grave. 

"  You  are  right,"  he  said.     "  I  am  nothing  but  plain 


i8o  FREE   TO   SERVE 

Roger  Bennet,  a  trader  with  the  Indians,  and  the  maiden 
is  of  gentle  birth.  I  am  relieved  that  you  have  esti- 
mated her  at  her  true  value,  and  that  her  position  is 
already  known  to  you.  The  fact  should  make  my  mis- 
sion the  easier." 

"  Your  mission?     What  is  it?  " 

"  To  take  her  from  a  false  position,  and  restore  her  to 
her  brother's  care,"  said  Roger. 

He  spoke  quietly,  but  his  eyes  were  scanning  Geys- 
bert's  face. 

"You  come  a  full  two  weeks  too  late,"  replied  Geys- 
bert  angrily.  "The  maid  is  bought  and  paid  for.  If 
her  brother  needed  her,  he  should  have  come  to  her 
rescue  sooner." 

"  He  lies  at  Albany  with  a  broken  leg,  and  lay  thus, 
a  stranger  among  us,  with  none  to  do  his  bidding,  until 
I  returned  from  a  journey  among  the  Indians,"  said 
Roger.  "I  come  empowered  to  buy  back  the  maiden, 
and  compensate  you  for  all  expense  to  which  you  have 
been  put." 

"  A  likely  thing,"  exclaimed  Geysbert  savagely,  "  that 
in  a  land  where  maids  are  scarce  my  mother  should 
give  up  the  services  of  one  whom  she  has  partially 
trained  !  It  was  his  own  lookout  if  her  brother  broke 
his  leg.  At  least  he  should  know  better  than  to  expect 
to  put  the  consequences  on  strangers." 

Roger's  eyes  were  bent  on  the  speaker.  He  made 
no  direct  answer  to  the  words. 

"The  lady,  your  mother?  Where  shall  I  find  her?" 
he  asked. 

"  At  the  house.  But  I  warn  you  you  will  have  your 
labour  for  your  pains,"  replied  Geysbert. 

"  I  will  take  the  risk,"  said  Roger,  and  walked  on. 

Madam  Feljer  stood  in  the  broad  hall  in  which  she 
always  received  strangers.  Her  sharp  e}'cs  found  their 
match  in  the  clear,  steady  gaze  of  the  tall  visitor. 


FREE  TO   SERVE  i8i 

"Yes,  if  you  choose  to  put  it  so,  I  am  selfish,"  she 
said,  "  but  not  more  selfish  than  a  lad  who  could  save 
himself  at  a  maid's  expense.  For  all  I  know,  the  lass  is 
as  well  off  with  a  selfish  old  woman  as  she  would  be  with 
a  selfish  young  man,  and  I  venture  to  say  she  is  safer  in 
my  protection  than  in  his." 

"  And  the  girl  herself  ?  "  said  Roger.  "  Is  it  no  pain 
to  you  to  inflict  suffering?  " 

"  The  lass  is  a  little  simpleton,  and  the  simple  are 
ever  bound  to  suffer,"  replied  the  lady.  "  Had  she 
known  what  was  good  for  her,  she  would  have  stayed  in 
her  English  home.  I  warrant  you  she'll  suffer  less  with 
a  steady  hand  over  her,  than  she  would  were  she  at  that 
lad's  beck  and  call." 

"  I  can  urge  no  argument  save  that  of  humanity," 
said  Roger,  "and  if  that  will  not  suffice  —  " 

"  As  it  will  not,"  interrupted  the  lady,  "  since  hu- 
manity is  many-sided,  and  turns  to  me  a  face  hidden, 
perchance,  from  you.  I  give  you  this  comfort,  how- 
ever, to  carry  back  to  the  lad,  — who,  to  my  mind,  de- 
serves naught  but  what  he  has  got,  —  the  maid  shall  be 
my  charge  as  well  as  my  servant,  and  if  she  will  it,  by 
reasonable  submission  to  my  wishes,  the  bondage  shall 
be  but  in  name." 

Roger  was  silent  for  a  minute,  and  the  lady  did  not 
speak  again. 

"  Madam,  I  thank  you,"  he  said  at  length.  "  The 
concession  is  not  that  which  I  sought,  yet  in  your  hands 
I  think  it  will  mean  much.  I  ask  but  one  other.  Should 
you  desire  to  rid  yourself  of  the  charge,  will  you  give 
to  the  friends  of  the  maiden  the  right  to  buy  her  back 
before  you  offer  her  services  to  any  other?  This  phase 
of  humanity  should,  I  think,  present  but  one  face  to 
any  beholder." 

"  You  are  right.  It  is  your  due.  And  how,  in  the 
event   of  which  you  speak,  shall  I  communicate  with 


1 82  FREE   TO   SERVE 

you,  or  with  that  young  fool,  —  your  partner,  I  think 
you  said  ?  '' 

"  Roger  Bennet,  Indian  trader  of  Albany,  is  all  the  ad- 
dress that  is  needed  to  find  me,"  was  the  answer,  "  and 
right  glad  I  shall  be  if  humanity  should  turn  face,  and 
you  should  quickly  send  me  the  message  I  desire.  The 
money  will  not  be  wanting.  And  now,  for  her  broth- 
er's sake  and  her  own,  I  would  see  the  maid." 

The  sun  had  sent  out  his  last  dart,  and  gone  in  unre- 
lenting majesty  down  behind  the  mountains.  There 
was  a  faint  breathing  of  coolness,  enough  to  make  the 
parched  plants  lift  their  heads.  The  breath  of  the 
wind,  however,  was  not  responsible  for  the  low  sobbing 
sound  that  might  have  been  heard  in  the  wood  beyond 
the  manor  house.  The  rustling  among  the  leaves  was 
caused  by  the  swish  of  a  girl's  dress,  and  a  glance  at 
the  eyes  swimming  with  tears  would  have  accounted 
for  the  rest.  It  was  very  still  out  there.  That  was  why 
Aveline  had  come. 

Roger  Bennet  had  gone  more  than  an  hour  ago,  and 
with  him  had  gone  a  certain  undefined  hope  that  had 
lurked  in  Aveline's  heart.  It  had  never  seemed  possi- 
ble that  it  could  be  so,  and  yet  she  had  sometimes 
dared  to  think  that  when  Fulke  came  her  freedom 
might  somehow  be  obtained.  Now  she  knew  that  the 
bondage  was  inevitable.  There  was  not  even  the  com- 
fort of  seeing  her  brother.  Fulke  was  ill,  and  she  could 
not  go  to  him. 

She  had  drawn  from  Roger  Bennet  the  whole  story. 
She  knew  that  the  young  man  was  not  recovering  as  he 
should  have  been.  A  man  of  his  professional  knowledge 
ought  to  have  known  that  perfect  quiet  of  mind  and  body 
was  essential  to  a  speedy  healing.  But  quiet  had  been 
the  last  condition  possible  for  Fulke.  He  fumed  and 
chafed,  and  inwardly  raged,  until  he  rendered  his  host 
as  desperate  as  hiniself.     All  this  Roger  told  Aveline, 


FREE   TO    SERVE  183 

but  he  did  not  tell  her  of  the  wild  look  in  her  brother's 
eyes  when  he  —  Roger  Bennet —  came  to  his  side,  long 
after  the  time  when  he  had  been  expected  to  return. 
And  he  did  not  tell  her  how  the  young  man's  words  — 
a  trifle  incoherent  sometimes  —  had  roused  Roger  to 
action. 

"  Find  her  for  me,  Bennet,  and  bring  her  back  with 
you,  and  you  may  charge  anything  you  like  for  your 
pains,"  Fulke  had  said. 

The  ordinary  mode  of  travel  was  too  slow  to  meet  the 
need,  as  Roger  Bennet  saw  it.  He  knew,  better  than 
Fulke  could  do,  the  possibilities  wrapped  up  in  that 
word  "bondage,"  and,  because  he  understood,  he  had 
recourse  to  that  which  afforded  the  utmost  speed  of  the 
day —  a  canoe  journey  down  the  Hudson.  He  travelled 
swiftly,  but  he  arrived  too  late. 

At  that  moment  his  canoe  was  making  rapid  progress 
up  the  river.  Down  in  the  wood  Aveline  was  thinking  of 
her  brother,  and  of  the  hopes  that  were  now  all  wrecked. 
Under  the  circumstances,  the  tears  were  not  to  be  won- 
dered at.  She  seated  herself  on  the  level  stump  of  a  tree, 
and  let  herself  look  at  fate  from  the  dark  side.  It  was 
the  sound  of  a  step  behind  that  caused  her  to  rise  hastily, 
and  walk  towards  the  open  land,  keeping  her  head  per- 
sistently turned  from  the  point  whence  the  sound  came. 

"  Surely  the  curse  of  having  made  ourselves  a  hunting 
people  is  upon  us,"  said  Helmer's  voice,  "  for  the  inno- 
cent flee  at  our  approach.  Yet  we  are  not  always  in  a 
ravening  mood." 

Intentionally  he  spoke  lightly,  but  his  heart  was 
heavy  for  this  girl.  Helmer  was  to-day  in  a  minority 
in  his  own  home.  In  truth,  he  constituted  the  minority, 
since  every  other  member  of  the  family  was  on  the  other 
side.  He  had  declared  for  yielding  to  Roger  Bennet's 
request.     Possibly  the  fact  that  the  trader  had  already 


1 84  FREE   TO    SERVE 

pushed  his  canoe  into  the  stream  when  Helmer  gave  his 
opinion,  made  it  the  easier  to  give. 

Geysbert  was  unequivocally  on  the  side  of  retaining 
Aveline's  services,  or  was  it  Aveline's  person?  The 
young  Dutchman  had  recovered  his  temper,  and  to  a 
certain  extent  his  position  with  his  mother's  maid.  He 
could  be  very  agreeable  when  he  chose,  and  just  now 
he  did  choose.  There  were  so  many  things  in  colonial 
life  of  which  Aveline  was  ignorant,  and  it  was  only  a 
charity  to  enlighten  her.  It  was  Helmer,  though,  who 
had  undertaken  to  make  that  first  terror,  the  Dutch  lan- 
guage, a  familiar  thing  to  her.  He  was  a  good  teacher, 
or  Aveline  was  an  apt  scholar,  for  already  she  was  begin- 
ning to  find  something  more  than  chaotic  sound  in 
good  Ryseck's  strong  words,  and  in  the  babble  of  talk 
among  the  negroes  on  the  place. 

Aveline's  pace  slackened  when  Helmer  spoke,  but  she 
did  not  turn  her  head.  The  tears  were  unmanageable, 
and  two  that  had  but  lately  overflowed  were  still  glisten- 
ing on  her  cheeks.  They  were  the  first  objects  Helmer 
saw  when  he  reached  her  side.  Possibly  they  accounted 
for  the  softening  of  his  voice. 

"  Can  you  not  forgive  us  for  being  selfish?  "  he  said. 
"  We  plead  guilty  of  the  sin.  But  there  are  extenuat- 
ing circumstances,  though  you  cannot  be  expected  to 
appreciate  them.  You  would  have  to  make  fresh 
acquaintance  with  yourself  before  you  could  understand 
the  temptation  of  holding  on  to  that  which  even  you 
must  admit  is  no  common  possession." 

It  was  a  smile  that  played  about  her  lips,  though  they 
quivered  a  little  still. 

"  I  wish  you  would  let  me  teach  you  the  Dutch  verb 
'  to  forgive,'  "  said  Helmer.  "  It  is  not  nearly  as  harsh 
as  some  of  our  words,  and  on  your  lips  it  would  even 
rival  your  own  English  language." 


FREE   TO   SERVE  185 

The  smile  had  conquered  now,  as  Helmer  intended 
it  should. 

"  It  is  gloomy  here  in  the  wood,"  he  said,  —  and  there 
was  no  selfishness  in  the  words,  for  to  him  the  wood  was 
anything  but  gloomy  at  that  moment,  —  "  shall  we  walk 
where  the  breeze  has  freer  play?  Yonder  is  Tyte,  and 
for  the  last  two  minutes  he  has  been  screaming  my  name 
with  all  the  strength  of  a  fine  pair  of  lungs." 

"  He  seems  to  regard  you  as  his  especial  property," 
said  Aveline,  looking'  towards  the  spot  where  a  small 
negro  boy  was  holding  up  a  big  fish,  and  still  loudly 
clamouring  for  "  Mars'r  Helmer." 

"  Most  certainly  he  does.  Some  years  ago,  when  he 
was  a  very  small  boy  indeed,  he  was  solemnly  made  my 
especial  property,  and  Tyte  is  quite  sure  that  the  arrange- 
ment is  mutual.  No  sooner  did  he  become  my  posses- 
sion, than  I  was  expected,  according  to  negro  tradition, 
to  present  my  small  servant  with  a  pair  of  shoes  and 
some  money,  and  from  henceforth  I  must  take  him  under 
my  wing.  In  return  he  sings  my  praises,  and  runs  at 
my  heels  like  a  dog,  and  a  noisy  dog  he  is." 

"  Well,  Tyte,  what  is  it?"  asked  the  young  man,  as  he 
neared  the  boy  and  the  group  of  negroes  about  him. 

"  Jest  dis,"  said  Tyte,  in  his  best  EngHsh,  the  result 
of  Helmer's  teaching. 

"  Dis  "  was  a  member  of  the  fish  tribe,  a  fine  speci- 
men of  a  drum. 

"  Who  caught  him?  "  asked  Helmer. 

"  Me  and  Rufe." 

"  Me  first,  of  course,"  laughed  Helmer,  giving  the 
boy's  saucy  cheek  a  light  cuff.  Then  he  turned  to  Ave- 
line. "Your  countrymen  have  the  laugh  on  us  in  re- 
spect to  this  and  two  other  fishes,"  he  said.  "  We  call 
the  drum  '  dertienen  '  —  the  thirteenth.  Tradition  says 
that  our  first  representatives  in  this  land,  knowing  but 
ten  kinds  offish,  were  excited  when  in  spring  they  caught 


1 86  FREE   TO    SERVE 

the  shad,  a  species  before  unknown  to  them.  In  their 
eagerness  they  named  it  '  elft '  —  eleventh.  But  soon 
came  the  bass,  and  as  they  flocked  to  see  it  they  cried 
'  twalft,'  or  twelfth.  Our  friend  the  drum  came  last,  and 
he  got  the  name  of  '  dertienen.'  " 

Aveline  laughed,  and  the  small  Tyte  grinned  and 
showed  his  white  teeth.  Then  madam's  voice  sounded 
from  the  house,  and  Aveline  turned  away,  but  the  dark 
lines  had  gone  from  beneath  her  eyes,  and  her  step  was 
lighter. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  187 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

" 'W  "jT  THAT?      Tears    in  my    merry  maid's    eyes? 

\/\/  ^ho  has  been  offending  my  girl?  I'll  teach 
▼  ▼  those  youngsters  their  place,  and  let  them 
know  who's  master  here.  Which  of  them  is  it,  Geysbert 
or  Helmer?  " 

The  owner  of  the  manor  house  walked  briskly  over  to 
the  fireplace,  near  which  Aveline  was  standing.  The 
light  of  the  dancing  flame  shone  on  her  face,  and  showed 
suspicious  tears.     The  old  man  shook  his  head. 

"  I  haven't  seen  a  tear  on  those  pretty  cheeks  for 
many  a  day  now,"  he  said,  "  and  somebody's  going  to 
answer  for  these,  I  tell  them." 

Aveline  smiled,  and  stretched  out  her  hand.  Pieter 
Feljer  took  it,  and  held  it  in  a  firm  grasp. 

"Which  was  it?  "  he  asked,  and  there  was  a  twinkle 
in  his  eye. 

"  I  was  foolish,"  said  Aveline.  "  I  allowed  myself  to 
think  of  home  and  —  and  Joan.  It  was  in  April  last 
year  that  she  was  married." 

"  And  that  packet  you  had  from  her  awhile  ago  has 
made  you  homesick,  eh?  The  anniversary  of  her  wed- 
ding, and  so  on.     Poor  little  maid  !  " 

From  the  first  Pieter  Feljer  had  taken  Aveline  into 
his  heart.  He  had  not  stopped  to  ask  questions.  That 
had  been  left  for  his  wife.  He  had  surrendered  to  the 
girl  from  the  moment  when  he  stood  filling  up  the  door- 
way of  the  hall,  and  taking  stock  of  the  new  maid. 

"  Best  thing  Geysbert  ever  did  in  his  life,  or  is  likely 
to  do,"  he  had  said  many  a  time  since.  "  I  didn't 
think  the  lad  had  sense  enough  to  bring  home  a  lass 
like   that." 


1 88  FREE   TO   SERVE 

Madam  Feljer  had  never  contradicted  his  assertion. 
When  she  promised  Roger  Bennet  that  she  would  take 
Avehne  under  her  care,  she  did  not  speak  without  con- 
sideration. For  fourteen  days  she  had  studied  the  girl, 
watching  her  with  sharp  eyes.  By  the  time  Roger  ar- 
rived she  had  come  to  a  decision.  She  wanted  this  girl, 
and  she  meant  to  keep  her.  A  young  maid  was  what 
the  manor  house  most  needed,  and  madam  had  no 
daughter.  Aveline  must  stay,  but  there  was  no  reason 
why  the  captive  bird  should  not  be  taught  to  sing.  The 
manor  house  was  not  an  old  English  mansion,  but,  in 
madam's  estimation,  it  was  no  whit  behind  any  one  of 
them.  And  if  a  girl  wanted  better  company  than  Pieter 
Feljer's  two  lads,  madam  had  little  respect  for  her  taste. 
The  girl  could  be  happy  here  if  she  chose,  and  in  any 
case  there  were  duties  enough  to  keep  her  from  moping. 

There  certainly  was  no  lack  of  employment  in  such 
an  establishment  as  Madam  Feljer  presided  over,  and 
the  constant  occupation  was  welcome  to  Aveline.  It 
helped  to  bridge  over  the  gulf  between  the  old  life  and 
the  new. 

Madam  had  won  her  point.  The  bird  had  learned  to 
sing.  Perhaps  the  knowledge,  which  came  before  the 
winter,  that  she  could  not  in  any  case  have  been  Fulke's 
housekeeper,  since  his  life  would  at  present  be  too  ad- 
venturous to  allow  of  such  a  luxury,  helped  to  reconcile 
her  to  the  manor  house;  perhaps,  as  the  days  went  on, 
she  found  the  manor  house  itself  not  unattractive.  Most 
surely  it  was  the  fault  of  neither  Geysbert  nor  Helmer 
if  she  lacked  amusement.  There  was  a  rivalry — not 
always  friendly —  between  the  two  representatives  of  the 
house  of  Feljer.  Geysbert  was  inclined  to  stand  on  his 
dignity  as  the  elder,  and  assert  his  rights. 

Pieter  Feljer's  eyes  twinkled  many  a  time  as  he 
noticed  a  certain  coldness  between  the  brothers,  a  stiff- 
ness of  manner  that  had  not  always  been  there. 


FREE   TO   SERVE  189 

"  One  plum  for  two  mouths  is  an  unsatisfactory 
morsel,"  he  would  say. 

Pieter  Feljer  was  scarcely  so  old  that  he  had  forgotten 
certain  emotions  of  his  younger  days. 

His  eyes  were  not  twinkling  now.  They  were  tender 
with  sympathy. 

"  Pity  it  is  we  cannot  bring  the  good  Joan  over  to  look 
after  her  lass,"  he  said.  "  But  we  can  get  up  a  wedding 
of  our  own,  perchance  as  gay  a  one  as  Joan  herself 
could  boast  of,  and  make  this  April  a  rival  to  the  last." 

Aveline's  answering  glance  was  a  little  doubtful.  She 
was  not  quite  sure  how  his  words  were  to  be  taken. 

"What?  Has  not  madam  told  you?  Verily  she  is 
chary  of  her  good  news,  or  she  would  have  let  you  know 
that  Fytje  Roseboom  and  Jurian  Opdyke  are  soon  to  be 
made  happy,  and  madam  is  to  give  a  chaise-party  in 
honour  of  the  young  people.  That  will  surely  be  new 
to  you,  my  dear,  something  to  bring  back  the  smiles  to 
this  fair  face." 

He  pinched  her  cheek  as  he  spoke.  It  was  not  neces- 
sary now  that  his  words  should  be  in  English.  Helmer's 
teaching  had  proved  very  successful,  and  the  Dutch 
tongue  was  to  Aveline  no  longer  a  source  of  mystifica- 
tion. It  was  in  that  language  she  answered  now.  Pieter 
liked  to  hear  it  from  her.  He  smiled  as  he  looked  back 
from  the  door,  and  saw  her  standing  by  the  fire,  a  bit  of 
brightness  amidst  the  dark  browns  and  blues  of  the  big 
room.  But  when  he  was  gone  her  face  grew  grave  again. 
There  were  times  when  the  old  memories  overpowered 
present  associations,  and  made  the  girl  long  for  Joan's 
motherly  arms,  and  Sir  Julian's  protecting  care.  She 
had  long  ago  ceased  to  be  afraid.  Looking  back,  she 
knew  that  her  fears  had  begun  to  vanish  from  the 
moment  when  the  dog  Kip  brought  Helmer  to  her 
rescue,  but  the  homesickness  was  not  so  easily  cured. 
F'rom  Joan  Aveline's  thoughts  went  to  Fulke.   Madam 


I90  FREE   TO    SERVE 

Feljer  had  stopped  saying  unpleasant  things  about  the 
young  man  since  the  day  when  she  had  an  opportunity 
to  say  a  few  unpleasant  things  to  him.  Fulke  had  not 
been  exactly  polite  on  that  occasion.  He  was  too  much 
in  earnest  to  pick  his  words.  They  came,  hot  and 
uncompromising  —  an  appeal  that  was  almost  a  demand. 
He  did  not  escape  the  natural  consequences  of  his  direct 
speaking.  Madam  took  occasion  to  express  a  few  opin- 
ions, and  do  a  little  plain  talking  on  her  own  account. 
For  the  first  time  in  his  life,  perhaps,  the  young  man 
listened  to  straightforward,  unflattering  comments  on 
himself  without  attempting  excuse.  Neither  in  word 
nor  thought  did  he  try  to  shift  the  blame.  Now  that  the 
deed  was  irrevocable,  he  felt  it  past  extenuation. 

"  You  are  right,  madam,"  he  said.  "  My  sister  is 
guilty  of  displaying  more  affection  than  discretion  in 
trusting  herself  in  my  hands.  She  seems  to  be  generally 
unfortunate  in  finding  protectors  who  have  their  own 
purposes  to  serve." 

"  Speak  for  yourself,  young  man,"  was  the  answer. 
"  Right  well  the  accusation  fits  you,  I  doubt  not,  but  till 
you  have  proved  yourself  better  fitted  for  the  charge,  it 
is  at  least  a  question  whether  there  be  not  as  much 
wisdom  as  selfishness  in  keeping  under  my  care  a  lass 
so  little  able  to  stand  out  against  a  reckless  lad's  de- 
mands. Go  you  to  work,  and  show  yourself  a  man  fit 
to  be  trusted,  and  leave  the  girl  where  she  has  the  safe- 
guard of  an  old  woman's  guidance  —  selfish  guidance, 
if  you  please,  but  little  likely  to  land  her  where  your 
foolhardy  action  brought  her." 

Fulke  was  at  that  moment  on  the  broad  seas,  en- 
deavouring to  put  that  advice  into  action.  He  was  on 
his  way  home  in  a  vessel  owned  by  Roger  Bennet, 
returning  from  a  business  trip  to  the  West  India  islands, 
where  he  had  exchanged  his  cargo  of  flour  and  provi- 
sions for  rum  and  molasses. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  191 

Aveline  was  wishing  him  a  safe,  but  not  altogether  a 
speedy  voyage.  For  reasons  of  her  own  she  hoped  that 
the  bark  might  be  a  few  days  yet  before  she  reached 
her  port.  For  Aveline  herself  was  expecting  soon  to 
be  in  the  port  of  New  York,  and  the  city  would  lose  its 
chief  attraction  if  she  should  not  meet  her  brother  there. 
The  coming  wedding  was  almost  forgotten,  until  madam 
set  her  to  making  sugar-plums  for  the  occasion. 

"  We  will  give  Jurian  and  Fytje  a  fine  Dutch  chaise- 
party,"  she  said,  "and  the  tenants  and  the  slaves  shall 
not  be  robbed  of  their  largess." 

"  What  is  a  chaise-party?  "  asked  Aveline,  and  madam 
laughed,  and  told  her  to  wait  until  it  came,  and  she 
would  know. 

The  morning  of  the  chaise-party  proved  so  bright  and 
clear,  with  such  a  warmth  of  spring  in  the  air,  that  Ave- 
line felt  any  form  of  out-door  life  to  be  acceptable.  The 
prospective  bride  and  groom,  the  latter  the  son  of  a 
neighbouring  land-owner,  came  early  to  the  manor 
house,  for  a  chaise-party  was  one  of  the  most  favoured 
of  the  festivities  of  that  gay  fortnight  which  pertained  to 
the  wedding  pleasures. 

When  Aveline  saw  the  little  chaises,  with  their  high 
wheels,  and  narrow  seats  each  to  be  furnished  with  a 
maiden  and  a  lad,  she  began  to  understand  the  meaning 
of  a  chaise-part}'.  There  had  been  a  little  covert  rail- 
lery at  the  expense  of  the  young  men  of  the  manor 
house  that  morning.  Pieter  Feljer's  eyes  twinkled  again, 
and  once  or  twice  madam's  flashed.  But  when  she 
paired  off  her  guests,  madam  bestowed  on  Helmer  a 
blooming  Dutch  maiden,  with  large  quiet  eyes  and  a 
perfect  complexion,  and  packed  Aveline  into  a  chaise 
grand  with  car\nng  and  gilding,  painted  with  such  won- 
derful scenes  that  it  could  be  nothing  less  than  an  heir- 
loom, and  installed  Geysbert  on  her  left  side  as  driver. 
The  chaise  was  the  last  in  the  row  of  eight  which  drew 


192  FREE   TO   SERVE 

up  along  the  broad  road  by  the  manor  house  door,  while 
eight  exultant  swains,  seated  on  the  left  sides  of  eight 
expectant  maids,  passed  their  right  arms  about  the 
ladies'  waists,  as  in  duty  bound  to  do  on  such  an  occa- 
sion. It  scarcely  needed  a  touch  of  the  whips  to  bring 
the  horses  to  an  understanding  of  their  duty.  The  fore- 
most chaise  shot  ahead,  away  dashed  the  whole  line  in 
pursuit,  and  the  chaise-party  was  in  full  progress. 

To  shower  down  sugar-plums  on  the  heads  of  the 
open-mouthed  negroes,  who  rushed  out  in  a  body  to 
see  the  brave  sight,  was  one  of  the  joys  of  the  occasion. 
The  girls  laughed,  and  the  youths  shouted,  and  as  each 
house  was  reached,  the  tenants  turned  out  to  enjoy  the 
fun.  Again  the  sugar-plums  came  into  requisition,  and 
Aveline  understood  why  madam  had  insisted  on  a  lib- 
eral supply. 

There  was  a  bright  flush  on  the  girl's  cheeks,  brought 
there  by  the  pressure  of  Geysbert's  arm.  Two  couples 
ahead  she  could  see  Helmer  bending  his  head  to  speak 
to  his  companion.  His  sleeve  lightly  touched  the 
maiden's  dress,  so  lightly  that,  could  Aveline  have  seen, 
there  was  a  pout  on  her  lips.  Not  so  was  Geysbert's 
arm  manipulated.  He  had  no  intention  of  allowing  his 
companion  to  forget  its  existence,  and  the  heightened 
colour  on  her  cheeks  was  not  ill-pleasing  to  him.  He 
was  gay,  so  gay  that  Aveline  was  forced  to  fall  in  with 
his  mood,  and  laugh  with  the  rest.  The  day  was  bright, 
and  the  motion  rapid,  and  there  was  contagion  in  the 
merriment  all  along  the  line. 

The  road,  a  grass-grown  wagon-track,  just  beginning 
to  show  signs  of  green,  was  soft  and  springy,  and  if  deep 
ruts  had  occasionally  to  be  avoided,  they  only  add-ed 
spice  to  the  adventure.  A  dash  through  a  piece  of 
woodland  brought  them  out  to  cleared  fields  beyond. 
Here  the  track  curved  sharply,  and  a  little  display  of 
skill  on  the  part  of  the  drivers  was  in  place.     A  small 


FREE   TO    SERVE  195. 

stream  crossed  the  road  at  the  curve,  and  over  it  were 
laid  a  few  rough  planks,  a  rude  substitute  for  a  bridge. 
As  the  primitive  bridge  was  approached,  a  tremor 
passed  through  seven  maidens'  frames.  The  eighth 
was  innocently  watching  the  rest  as  they  swept  round 
that  curve.  She  saw  the  first  vehicle  strike  the  boards, 
a  cavalier's  head  go  down,  the  tightening  of  an  encir- 
cling arm,  and  then  a  motion  to  which  there  belonged 
a  distinct  and  peculiar  sound,  just  now  drowned  by  the 
thud  of  hoofs  and  the  laughter  of  the  company.  It 
was  over  in  a  moment,  and  the  next  chaise  was  upon 
the  bridge.  One  by  one  the  little  gigs  touched  the 
boards,  and  one  by  one  the  drivers  took  the  reward  of 
their  labours.  It  is  only  fair  to  admit  that  there  was  no 
stealing  about  it.  A  free  gift  may  ever  honourably  be 
taken. 

As  the  number  of  chaises  between  herself  and  the 
bridge  lessened  until  it  was  reduced  to  one,  Aveline 
could  use  her  ears  as  well  as  her  eyes.  When  the  head 
went  down,  and  maid  and  escort  approached  more 
closely  to  each  other,  she  could  hear  the  sound  which 
before  had  only  affected  her  through  the  imagination. 
Now  it  became  audible  to  a  close  listener.  It  was 
friendship  grown  resonant.  She  began  to  understand 
that  there  were  revelations  connected  with  a  chaise- 
party. 

She  was  so  thoroughly  absorbed  in  watching,  that 
her  observation  of  others  carried  her  thought  away 
from  herself.  She  was  close  enough  to  see  the  details 
of  the  performance,  and  an  amused  smile  was  parting 
her  lips,  when  the  wheels  of  her  own  chaise  touched 
the  planks,  and  suddenly  her  companion  leant  forward, 
bent  low,  and  quickly,  and  without  warning,  touched  his 
lips  to  hers,  then  bending  his  head  yet  more,  let  his 
eyes  laugh  into  her  own. 

"  How  dare  you  ?  " 


194  FREE   TO    SERVE 

There  was  danger  in  the  flash  of  the  eyes  that  an- 
swered his. 

"  Nay,  nay,  don't  look  so  fierce,"  he  said.  "  It  is  but 
my  prerogative  as  escort  and  driver." 

"  Then  I  will  walk.  The  price  is  too  high  for  the 
privilege,"  said  Aveline  hotly. 

In  spite  of  his  encircling  arm  she  struggled  to  her  feet. 

"  Stop  the  chaise,"  she  said  imperiously.  "  I  will 
not  trouble  you  to  drive  further." 

"  You  will  not?  " 

He  snatched  his  whip  from  its  resting-place,  and  the 
chaise  rolled  madly  onward. 

"  There,  how  will  that  do?  "  he  said.  "  You  have  yet 
to  learn  that  the  pleasures  of  a  chaise-party  are  not  of 
the  quietest  character.  Come  now,  be  generous,  and 
treat  me  as  well  as  Lentje  is  treating  Helmer  there." 

Instinctively  Aveline  looked  ahead.  Helmer's  part- 
ner had  nestled  closer  to  her  escort.  She  was  beginning 
to  enjoy  the  drive.  The  sight  did  nothing  toward  les- 
sening the  close  pressure  of  Aveline's  lips. 

"Since  you  will  not  stop,"  she  said  coldly,  "  I  must 
even  resign  myself  to  the  inevitable.  I  think  this  chaise 
would  be  less  wearisome,  however,  if  you  could  find  it 
convenient  only  to  occupy  one  side." 

He  drew  his  arm  away  angrily. 

"Thank  you.     That  is  better." 

"  Better,  is  it?     I'm  glad  you  find  it  so." 

"  I  thank  you.     I  do." 

He  relapsed  into  sullen  silence,  during  which  a  second 
bridge  came  in  sight,  and  a  little  suppressed  giggling 
sounded  from  ahead.  This  time  Aveline  did  not  smile. 
As  she  watched  the  repetition  of  the  performance  that 
had  before  struck  her  as  amusing,  her  lip  curled.  She 
simply  found  it  ridiculous. 

"  See  there  !  "  said  Geysbert.  "  There  are  maidens 
less  absurdly  particular  than  yourself." 


FREE   TO    SERVE  195 

"  Yes,  I  perceive  that  there  are,"  responded  Aveline. 
**  They  have  a  right  to  value  their  —  kisses  —  as  highly 
or  as  lightly  as  they  please." 

"  Hm !  Possibly  they  are  worth  as  much  as  your 
own,"  he  retorted. 

"  Then  go  and  take  them  ;  that  is,  if  any  feel  inclined 
to  give  you  the  privilege." 

She  turned  full  upon  him.  They  were  crossing  the 
bridge.  He  gave  his  whip  free  play  and  they  were  over, 
the  chaise  rolling  dangerously. 

The  drive  was  a  failure  —  for  Geysbert.  Aveline  sat 
very  proud  and  still,  as  far  away  from  him  as  she  could 
get.  Merry  shouts  of  laughter  came  back  to  them  from 
the  leading  chaises.  There  was  no  further  word  spoken. 
Aveline  could  hardly  have  told  why  she  was  so  angry ; 
Geysbert  had  simply  followed  the  example  of  every 
other  youth  in  the  party.  She  had  seen  Helmer  draw 
his  companion  towards  him  as  he  reached  the  bridge, 
though  it  must  be  confessed  the  sight  had  not  pleased 
her.  She  had  not  smiled  just  at  that  moment.  And 
yet  —  so  illogical  at  times  is  the  human  mind  —  she  had 
not  felt  that  the  dignity  of  his  companion  was  wounded. 
She  had  been  busy  wondering  whether  or  not  he  found 
the  carrying  out  of  the  programme  pleasant.  But 
Geysbert !  That  was  another  matter.  He  should  have 
known  better.  If  he  did  not,  he  must  take  the  conse- 
quences. 

They  were  nearing  their  destination,  a  small,  rough 
hut  in  the  woods,  where  the  wood-choppers  found  shel- 
ter. Here  they  were  to  have  breakfast  —  rather  a  late 
one,  as  the  sun  was  but  an  hour  from  the  zenith  —  and 
then  enjoy  a  ramble  in  the  woods  before  the  drive  home. 
The  alacrity  with  which  Aveline  sprang  from  the  chaise 
was  a  new  stab  to  Geysbert's  pride. 

There  was  much  laughter  and  joking  while  the  maid- 
ens prepared  the  meal,  and  Aveline's  laugh   mingled 


196  FREE   TO    SERVE 

with  the  rest.  Yet,  as  she  went  outside  to  fetch  some 
needed  article,   Helmer's  voice  said  gently  : 

"  You  are  not  pleased  with  our  Dutch  merry-making." 

"  I  neither  deny  nor  plead  guilty  to  the  charge,"  she 
said.     "  You  have  not  established  it." 

"  In  my  mind  it  needs  no  establishing  but  that  which 
a  look  into  your  eyes  will  give,"  he  said.  "  We  are  a 
homely  race,  and  our  sports  are  perhaps  rough." 

"  Yes.  You  drive  furiously,"  she  answered,  and  there 
was  no  suggestion  of  a  smile,  yet  a  slight  quiver  of 
Helmer's  lips  betrayed  the  thought  that  found  no  other 
expression. 

"  It  is  a  sin,"  he  said.  "  If  you  will  trust  yourself  to 
me,  I  will  prove  on  the  return  journey  that  even  a  Dutch- 
man can  be  gentle." 

There  was  certainly  a  relaxing  of  the  muscles  of  her 
face.  A  conceited  swain  might  easily  have  fancied  that 
she  was  relieved. 

After  all,  the  day  was  not  unpleasant.  It  was  because 
the  sun  shone  so  brightly.  It  is  well-nigh  impossible  to 
be  altogether  unhappy  when  a  spring  sun  warms  the  air, 
and  the  world  shows  those  tremors  of  life  that  come  only 
once  in  a  year.  Helmer  took  possession  of  Aveline,  and 
did  for  her  the  honours  of  the  forest.  At  first  the  sound 
of  voices  was  always  near,  but  little  by  little  the  party 
separated,  till  Aveline  found  herself  alone  with  Helmer. 
It  was  then  she  felt  that  the  sun  was  shining  so  brightly, 
and  that  the  warm  earth  was  pleasant. 

The  outward  journey  had  been  arranged  by  the 
hostess ;  the  return  trip  was  brought  into  order  by  the 
manipulations  of  the  pleasure-takers  themselves.  As  a 
matter  of  course,  it  followed  that  in  more  than  one  case 
there  was  a  change  of  partner.  If  Helmer  had  expected 
to  be  obliged  to  use  a  little  skill  in  safely  bestowing 
Aveline  in  the  particular  chaise  of  which  he  had  charge, 
he  found  himself  mistaken. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  197 

Geysbert  had  to  all  appearance  more  than  recovered 
his  spirits.  He  was  paying  devoted  attention  to  a  maiden 
who  was  ready  to  appreciate  his  efforts.  She  looked 
satisfied  and  triumphant,  and  though  Geysbert's  coun- 
tenance could  not  be  said  to  be  a  complete  reflection  of 
her  own,  it  was  at  least  full  of  gayety. 

There  was  more  hilarity  on  the  second  trip.  The 
wine,  that  had  not  been  spared  at  the  meal,  had  loosened 
tongues  and  inspired  wit.  It  is  not  even  certain  that 
everybody  waited  for  a  bridge  at  that  time.  Little 
screams,  which  were  not  of  fear,  and  loud  expressions 
of   masculine  satisfaction,  were  the  order  of  the  day. 

Helmer  had  intentionally  started  last  in  line. 

"  It  is  pleasanter  to  watch  than  to  be  watched,"  he 
said,  and  Aveline  agreed  with  him. 

He  kept  his  word  as  to  driving  soberly.  The  line 
of  rattling  chaises  was  always  well  ahead,  though  Helmer 
drove  fast.  He  did  not  find  it  necessary  to  keep  strictly 
to  Dutch  etiquette  on  that  homeward  journey.  Once 
his  hand  touched  Aveline's  as  he  asked  whether  she  felt 
cold,  —  a  soft,  spring  breeze  having  arisen,  —  and  once 
he  found  it  necessary  to  assist  her  to  a  more  comfort- 
able position  on  the  narrow  seat.  The  hand  he  took 
in  his  was  not  cold.  It  was  warm  and  soft  —  a  tempting 
little  hand.     But  Helmer  resisted  temptation. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  a  chaise-party?  "  asked 
Pieter  Feljer,  as  he  came  out  to  welcome  them  back, 
and  held  out  his  hand  to  help  Aveline  to  the  ground. 

"  That  is  a  stolen  privilege,"  cried  Helmer,  when  she 
put  her  hand  into  the  old  man's. 

Aveline  laughed. 

"  It  is  pleasant — and  unpleasant,"  she  added  truth- 
fully. 

"Well  done,"  said  the  owner  of  the  manor  house. 
"  You  have  learned  something." 


198  FREE   TO    SERVE 


CHAPTER   XIX 

HI !  Yah  !  Toot !  Toot !  " 
The  small  Tyte  waved  the  empty  drinking- 
horn  with  a  shaking  hand.  He  had  removed 
the  stopper  from  the  small  end  of  it,  for  the  purpose 
of  blowing  the  shrill  blast  which  was  a  sign  of  triumph, 
telling  that  the  drinker  had  emptied  the  horn  and 
was  yet  sober  enough  to  apply  his  lips  to  the  other 
end.  Tyte  was  unsteady  about  the  legs,  and  so  generally 
unstable  in  his  movements  that  the  three  young  men  who 
lay  stretched  on  the  grass  set  up  a  shout  of  raillery. 
The  negro  boy  interpreted  the  shout  as  a  compliment, 
and  attempted  a  caper  in  response.  His  subsequent 
efforts  to  preserve  his  balance  called  forth  peals  of 
laughter,  which  reached  a  climax  when  the  boy  fell 
heavily,  rolling  on  the  ground  in  unsuccessful  attempts 
to  pick  himself  up  again. 

"  Impudent  little  beggar  that !  "  said  one  of  the  three. 
"But  he's  down  for  good  this  time." 

"  About  had  his  fill,"  replied  Geysbert.  "  Myndert, 
you've  lost  your  bet.     He's  dead  drunk." 

"  Not  he,"  said  the  third  youth,  who  was  the  son  of 
the  most  well-to-do  tenant  on  the  estate.  "  Let  the 
blackamoor  alone.  He's  good  for  two  horns  more  yet. 
Here,  you,  Tyte !     Up  with  you,  and  fill  your  horn." 

He  put  out  his  foot  and  gave  the  boy  a  slight  kick  as 
he  spoke.  There  was  danger  that  he  would  sink  into 
slumber. 

Tyte  made  renewed  attempts  to  rise.  The  contor- 
tions of  his  face,  and  the  absolute  refusal  of  his  limbs  to 
act  in  concert,  provoked  from  the  young  men  roars  of 
laughter. 


FREE   TO   SERVE  199 

"  You've  lost  your  wager.  He'll  never  drain  that 
horn  again,  to  say  nothing  of  emptying  it  a  second 
time,"  said  Geysbert,  eying  the  struggling  boy  criti- 
cally. 

"  Won't  he?  That's  all  you  know  about  it,"  retorted 
Myndert.  "  Don't  be  too  sure.  A  bet's  not  lost  till  it's 
won,  and  you  haven't  won  yet." 

He  got  on  his  feet,  reached  down,  took  the  negro  boy 
by  the  clothing,  and  deposited  him  by  the  corner  of  the 
barn. 

"  Hold  on  to  that,  youngster,  and  take  your  drink  like 
a  man,"  he  said,  and  he  turned  to  refill  the  horn  from  a 
big  pewter  can  by  his  side. 

He  had  laid  a  wager  that  turned  on  the  capacity  of  a 
negro  boy  to  swallow  liquor,  and  unless  he  succeeded  in 
getting  Tyte  to  drink  two  more  horns  of  the  fiery  liquid, 
his  wager  was  lost. 

The  shouts  had  drawn  to  the  spot  a  small  group  of 
spectators,  consisting  of  three  grown  slaves  belonging 
to  Myndert  Hooghland's  father,  and  some  half-dozen 
negro  children,  all  of  whom  took  care  to  keep  well  be- 
yond young  Myndert's  reach.  His  temper  was  known 
to  be  none  of  the  mildest,  and  the  slaves  kept  one  eye 
on  the  fun  and  the  other  on  the  danger. 

"  Now,  then !  Catch  hold,  and  let's  hear  you  blow 
that  horn  again." 

Myndert  held  out  the  brimming  horn.  A  meaning- 
less grin  overspread  Tyte's  face.  He  stretched  out  his 
hand.  That  movement  had  a  strange  effect  on  the  barn. 
Tyte  felt  it  reel  and  stagger  under  his  grasp. 

"  Dis  —  barn's —  drunk  !  "  he  ejaculated,  and  loosed 
his  hold,  to  fall  a  helpless  heap  at  Myndert's  feet. 

The  young  man's  foot  spurned  him  savagely. 

"  Get  up,  you  fool !  "  he  said. 

The  negro  group  drew  nearer,  making  a  half  circle 
around  the  actors  in  the  scene.     Geysbert  raised  him- 


200  FREE   TO    SERVE 

self  on  his  elbow,  and  looked  quizzically  on.  He  had 
little  fear  of  losing  his  wager. 

"  Here  !  Sit  up  if  you  can't  stand,  and  take  this. 
Now  then,  toss  it  off." 

The  young  man  held  the  horn  towards  the  boy.  He 
was  determined  not  to  be  beaten.  Pride,  more  than  the 
desire  of  winning  his  bet,  was  at  the  bottom  of  his  per- 
sistency. He  had  said  he  would  win,  and  it  would  go 
hard  with  him  to  lose. 

He  propped  up  the  boy  in  a  sitting  position.  It  was 
very  evident  that  he  was  past  standing.  His  head  fell 
heavily  forward  on  his  breast,  and  his  eyes  closed  and 
unclosed  spasmodically.  Tyte  was  struggling  against 
the  slumber  that  overpowered  him.  The  young  man 
jerked  the  victim's  head  back  roughly. 

"  Wake  up,  you  black  rascal !  "  he  shouted.  "Now 
then,  drink !  " 

"  He's  drunk  as  a  pig,"  squeaked  a  childish  voice 
from  among  the  spectators. 

That  speech  was  a  revelation  to  one  of  the  on-lookers. 
She  had  come  to  a  stand  behind  the  encircling  group, 
wondering  and  horrified,  hesitating  whether  or  not  to 
interfere.  Now  she  understood.  Before  even  the  ex- 
cited negroes  had  noticed  her,  she  pushed  one  of  them 
aside,  swept  down  on  Myndert  Hooghland  as  he  tipped 
the  horn  to  pour  its  contents  down  the  boy's  throat,  and 
gave  the  vessel  a  blow  sharp  enough  to  send  it  with  its 
contents  to  the  ground. 

"  How  dare  you  treat  a  child  like  that?  "  she  cried 
indignantly. 

Myndert  looked  up  with  an  oath  on  his  lips. 

"  Stand  back  there,"  commanded  Aveline,  her  face 
ablaze  with  indignation.  "  Do  you  want  to  kill  the 
child?" 

"  What  is  it  to  you  whether  I  do  or  not?  He's  not 
your  negro,"  responded  Myndert  angrily. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  201 

"  Nor  yours.  But  if  he  were,  it  would  make  the  case 
no  better." 

"  Makes  it  a  little  the  worse  that  the  black  rascal's 
the  property  of  Helmer  Feljer,  doesn't  it?"  asked 
Myndert  with  a  leer.  "  You  naturally  feel  a  little  more 
interested  in  his  property  than  in  that  of — say  Geys- 
bert  here  —  or  any  of  the  rest  of  us,  eh  ?  " 

Aveline  gave  him  a  look  of  scorn,  but  she  found  it 
unnecessary  to  answer. 

"  Take  that  liquor  away,  and  set  one  of  your  slaves  to 
help  the  boy  home,"  she  said.  "  You  have  done  the 
mischief,  and  the  least  you  can  do  is  to  remedy  it." 

"  Oh,  yes,  surely.  Your  commands  are  as  welcome  as 
they  are  peremptory.  Would  you  like  to  wait  and  see 
them  carried  out,  or  will  you  leave  that  to  me?  I  shall 
be  mightily  pleased  to  receive  any  number  of  them." 

He  had  picked  up  the  horn,  and  was  refilling  it  as  he 
spoke.  With  a  quick  sweep  of  his  arm  he  pushed 
Aveline  aside,  and  once  more  held  the  liquor  to  Tyte's 
lips.  The  negro  boy,  partially  roused  by  Aveline's 
voice,  was  trying  in  a  bewildered  fashion  to  understand 
what  was  required  of  him. 

"  No,  no,  Tyte !  Don't  drink  it,"  commanded  Ave- 
line,  struggling  to  get  past  the  outstretched  arm. 

Myndert  tipped  the  horn.  But  the  girl's  words  had 
cut  their  way  into  Tyte's  stupefied  brain.  He  set  his 
teeth,  and  gave  his  head  a  weak  jerk.  It  was  enough 
to  spill  the  liquor  and  to  anger  Myndert. 

"  Open  your  mouth,  you  fool !  "  he  cried. 

"  No  —  Missy  Av'line  —  say  —  no.  .  Dis  —  boy  — 
do  —  as  Missy  — Av'line  —  say." 

It  was  an  effort  almost  beyond  the  muddled  brain  and 
the  uncertain  tongue,  but  the  words  were  said. 

"  What,  you  won't?     Then  take  that  to  sober  you  !  " 

The  young  man  gave  the  boy  a  brutal  kick,  and  had 
lifted  his  foot  agrain  when  he  felt  a  hand  at  his  collar, 


202  FREE   TO    SERVE 

pulling  with  a  strength  not  to  be  despised.  He  turned 
and  encircled  Aveline  with  his  arm,  holding  her  from 
him. 

"How  now,  little  fury!"  he  said.  "What  next? 
Better  go  and  tell  Helmer.     This  is  no  place  for  ladies." 

"  It  would  be  a  good  place  for  a  man  —  if  there  were 
one,"  said  Aveline,  and  she  glanced  towards  Geysbert. 

He  seemed  not  to  see  that  look.  He  was  waiting 
until  she  appealed  to  him  for  protection.  His  pride 
was  yet  sore  over  yesterday's  rebuff.  The  chaise-party 
was  but  a  day  old.  Presently  he  might  forget  —  but 
not  to-day.  When  she  wanted  his  help  she  could  ask 
for  it.  She  could  have  it  readily  enough  then.  But  as 
long  as  she  was  too  proud  to  ask,  he  was  too  proud  to 
offer.  Let  her  take  the  consequences  of  her  actions. 
It  would  be  wholesome  for  her. 

He  did  not  interfere  when  Myndert  lifted  Aveline 
from  her  feet,  and  with  an  angry  "  Get  out  of  the  way 
there,  the  whole  lazy  pack  of  you  !  "  sent  the  negroes 
scurrying  to  right  and  left  as  he  carried  the  girl  beyond 
the  group. 

"  There,  go  home  to  your  mistress,"  he  said  brutally. 
"  Truly,  for  a  serving-maid,  and  in  bondage  at  that,  you 
are  a  bold  wench,  to  interfere  with  men  that  are  your 
masters." 

Aveline's  face  turned  very  white.  It  was  the  first 
time  she  had  met  the  taunt. 

"Men,  do  you  say?  Verily,  it  has  a  strange  sound 
when  thus  applied.  Willingly  would  I  cease  from  such 
association,"  she  said,  slowly  and  distinctly.  "But  I 
must  see  justice  done  to  the  boy." 

"  You  must?  Then  I  am  bound  to  dispose  of  you 
first,  and  take  my  will  on  the  black  rascal  later." 

"  No.     You  will  take  that  first !  " 

The  movement  was  so  sudden  and  unexpected  that 
Myndert  was  sprawling  on  the  ground  before  he  had 


FREE   TO    SERVE  203 

thought  of  danger,  and  Helmer's  dog  Kip  was  growl- 
ing and  sniffing  over  him,  half  disposed  to  take  a  turn 
in  the  fray  by  applying  his  teeth  to  the  leg  of  the  pros- 
trate enemy. 

"  Come  off,  Kip,"  commanded  Helmer  sharply,  and 
the  dog  slunk  round  to  Aveline's  heels. 

The  blow  had  been  given  so  quickly  and  dexterously 
that  Helmer  had  succeeded  in  disengaging  Aveline  from 
the  young  man's  grasp  at  the  very  moment  when  he 
staggered  to  his  fall.     Now  he  kept  his  arm  about  her. 

"  I  apologize  for  our  race  as  a  set  of  brutes,"  he  said 
savagely,  bending  down  to  look  into  her  face.  "  Yet 
they  are  not  all  such  specimens  as  these." 

His  sweeping  nod  took  in  the  three  young  men, 
including  them  all  in  the  accusation. 

"  Are  you  hurt?  "  he  asked  anxiously. 

"No  — but  Tyte  — " 

"  I'll  attend  to  Tyte  later.  Now,  if  you  are  not  hurt, 
you  — had  better  stand  back." 

The  last  words  came  quickly.  Helmer  sprang  aside, 
putting  Aveline  by  that  act  in  a  place  of  safety,  just  as 
Myndert,  blind  with  rage,  jumped  to  his  feet.  The  blow, 
given  with  the  strength  of  a  young  arm  nerved  with 
indignation,  had  for  the  moment  stunned  him.  Now  he 
rushed  at  Helmer  with  murder  in  his  face. 

The  young  man  braced  himself  to  meet  the  shock. 
It  would  not  have  been  a  minute  before  Myndert  would 
have  felt  again  the  reactionary  power  of  the  solid  earth, 
for  Helmer  was  ready  for  the  attack.  But  Geysbert  had 
already  risen  to  his  feet.  He  had  foreseen  the  result  of 
that  first  blow,  and  he  set  himself  to  prevent  a  second 
by  planting  himself  in  Myndert's  way.  Not  that  he 
cared  whether  his  companion  received  his  deserts  or 
not,  but  he  was  averse  to  seeing  Helmer  the  victor,  and 
that  he  would  be  the  victor  was  a  foregone  conclusion. 
Any  triumph  for  Helmer  was  gall  to  Geysbert  at  this 


204  FREE   TO    SERVE 

moment.  Moreover,  Aveline  was  looking  on,  her  face 
white  with  excitement.  She  should  not  see  Myndert 
beaten  in  the  encounter,  for  in  a  measure  he  himself  was 
involved  in  it.  For  the  time  he  and  Myndert  were  on 
the  same  side. 

"  Don't  be  a  fool,  Myndert,"  he  said.  "  You've  had 
your  turn,  and  Helmer's  had  his.  The  boy's  his  negro, 
and  you  took  the  risk  when  you  meddled  with  him. 
We've  about  had  enough  of  this  business.  Better  be 
moving,  and  leave  the  rest  to  do  as  they  please." 

Myndert  hesitated.  Wild  as  he  was  with  passion,  he 
knew  that  he  was  no  match  for  Helmer.  He  glared  at 
the  young  man  for  a  moment,  and  then  turned  towards 
the  house. 

"  I'll  be  even  with  you  yet,  Helmer  Feljer,"  he  said, 
and  there  was  hatred  enough  in  his  tone  to  cause  Aveline 
a  sharp  twinge  of  fear. 

"  All  right.  I'm  ready  any  time,"  said  Helmer  scorn- 
fully. "  Better  stand  up  now,  like  a  man,  and  take  the 
thrashing  you'll  get  if  I  have  a  chance  at  you.  The 
thrashing  you  deserve  is  a  bigger  matter." 

Then  he  turned  to  Aveline. 

"  I  will  see  you  safely  out  of  this  ruffianly  neighbour- 
hood, and  then  send  one  of  the  negroes  to  look  after 
Tyte,"  he  said. 

She  made  no  attempt  to  thank  him.  She  grew  shy 
and  quiet  the  moment  the  others  had  disappeared.  For 
a  time  neither  spoke.  Helmer  was  thinking  of  Myn- 
dert's  taunt.  Aveline  had  become  so  much  one  of  the 
family  that  the  very  mention  of  any  other  relationship 
made  him  set  his  teeth  together  savagely.  He  was 
repenting  of  letting  the  young  man  off  so  easily. 

"  I  should  not  have  interfered,"  said  Aveline  suddenly, 
"  but  he  was  behaving  like  a  brute  to  poor  Tyte." 

"  He  is  a  brute,"  interrupted  Helmer.  "  He  had  no 
right  to  touch  the  boy.     And  as  for  daring  so  much  as 


FREE   TO    SERVE  205 

to  look  at  you  —  I  wish  Geysbert  had  let  things  alone. 
The  thought  of  it  makes  my  fingers  itch  to  punish  him 
as  he  deserves." 

*'  No,  no,"  said  Aveline  eagerly.  "  Let  him  alone. 
He  is  revengeful,  and  might  take  some  unfair  means  of 
injuring  you." 

"  I  am  not  afraid,"  said  Helmer  quietly. 

"But  I  am." 

"For  me?" 

There  was  a  ring  in  his  voice  not  to  be  mistaken.  He 
tried  to  look  into  her  face,  but  did  not  succeed  very  well. 
His  anger  had  suddenly  vanished,  dispersed  before  the 
warmth  of  this  new  emotion.  Myndert's  transgression 
dwindled.  What  did  it  matter  who  dared  to  sneer?  If 
Aveline  would  only  let  him,  he  would  soon  show  the 
world  what  was  her  position  in  the  household. 

They  were  nearing  the  house. 

"  I  shall  be  safe  enough  now,"  said  Aveline,  "  and 
some  one  ought  to  look  after  Tyte." 

"I  will  see  to  it  at  once,"  he  replied.  "And  —  you 
will  not  allow  any  of  Myndert  Hooghland's  insolence  to 
annoy  you  ?  " 

"  That  is  a  promise  which  I  can  only  give  condition- 
ally," she  said.  "  You  will  not  allow  his  insolence  to 
provoke  you  into  punishing  him?" 

"  You  are  too  merciful." 

"  No.  I  think  I  do  not  care  for  his  side  of  the  ques- 
tion at  all.     But  I  should  be  anxious  if  I  thought  —  " 

She  looked  up  at  him,  and  he  did  not  ask  her  to  finish 
the  sentence. 

Strange  to  say,  Aveline's  thoughts  that  night  were  not 
of  Myndert  Hooghland's  insulting  words,  nor  of  tlie 
wrongs  of  the  youthful  Tyte,  but  of  the  look  that  met 
hers  before  Helmer  turned  away.  The  next  day  she 
started  with  Pieter  and  Madam  Feljer  for  New  York. 


2o6  FREE   TO    SERVE 


CHAPTER   XX 

"r~l~^HERE,  my  dear,  look  well  at  him.  It  is  not 
I  every  new  governor  who  can  boast  of  being 
A     own  cousin  to  a  queen." 

Pieter  Feljer's  admonition  was  surely  unnecessary. 
Not  only  Aveline,  but  all  New  York,  was  "  looking  well 
at  him  "  — the  new  governor,  Lord  Cornbury.  On  this 
day  in  May,  of  the  year  1702,  the  little  city  had  turned 
out  to  do  him  honour,  personally,  by  that  particular 
form  of  loyalty  which  consists  in  patiently  waiting  for 
the  privilege  of  "  looking  well"  at  its  object,  and  offi- 
cially, by  entertaining  him  through  its  corporation  at  a 
grand  banquet. 

Not  two  months  before,  the  province  had  exhibited 
its  fellowship  with  the  English  land  by  mourning  the 
death  of  William  III.,  and  his  successor  had  yet  to  be 
officially  proclaimed  in  this  part  of  her  dominions. 
Viscount  Cornbury  was  the  personal  link  which  was  to 
unite  them  to  the  new  sovereign,  being  not  only  her 
representative,  but  also  her  kinsman. 

Aveline's  eyes  were  a  little  brighter  than  usual  as  she 
stood  to  see  him  pass.  She  was  very  happy  to-day, 
with  Fulke  on  one  side  of  her,  and  good  Pieter  Feljer 
on  the  other.  It  was  no  wonder  that  the  new  govern- 
or's gaze  rested  approvingly  on  the  group.  So  marked 
was  the  notice  that  Aveline  blushed  and  courtesied  low 
in  reverence  to  the  queen's  representative,  and  madam 
remarked  complacently : 

"  As  handsome  a  gentleman  as  one  could  wish  to  see, 
and  evidently  a  man  of  taste  and  sense." 

It  is  possible  that  the  taste  might  have  been  shown  in 


FREE   TO    SERVE  207 

a  yet  more  emphatic  manner  had  not  the  six  fine  horses 
attached  to  the  viscount's  carriage  drawn  him  past  the 
party  which  had  attracted  his  attention.  The  banquet 
was  to  come,  and  the  homage  of  the  city  magnates,  but 
while  he  hstened  to  their  speeches  of  loyalty,  Lord 
Cornbury  was  thinking  of  a  girl's  blushing  face,  and 
trying  to  place  it  satisfactorily  in  relationship  to  its 
surroundings. 

"  Neither  the  boy  nor  the  girl  calls  that  fine  old 
Dutchman  father,  I'll  wager,"  he  said,  and  the  next 
moment  rose  to  reply  to  the  address  of  welcome. 

The  city  was  in  gala  attire.  Aveline  could  have 
chosen  no  better  time  to  make  its  acquaintance.  It 
would  have  been  impossible  to  feel  anything  but  pleased 
with  it,  with  its  mixture  of  imposing  buildings  recently 
erected,  and  quaint  old  Dutch  houses  standing  gable 
end  to  the  street,  adorned,  as  to  the  gables,  with  checks 
of  red  and  yellow  and  black  bricks.  The  shade-trees, 
which,  a  few  years  later,  made  a  traveller  remark  that 
walking  through  the  streets  of  New  York  was  like  walk- 
ing through  a  garden,  had  just  burst  into  leaf,  and  under 
them  was  to  be  seen  a  mixed  people,  who  had  brought 
some  of  the  good  from  each  land  its  individual  members 
represented.  Already  New  York  had  become  a  city  of 
many  races,  though  just  now  it  was  a  city  of  but  one 
idea,  and  that  idea  was  to  give  a  fitting  welcome  to  the 
representative  of  Queen  Anne. 

It  was  not  solely  for  this  purpose  that  Pieter  and 
Madam  Feljer  were  here.  "We  may  as  well  join  busi- 
ness with  pleasure,"  Pieter  had  said,  "  and  since  we 
must  go  to  the  city,  time  our  visit  so  that  we  may  wit- 
ness the  governor's  arrival." 

To  Pieter  and  his  wife  the  great  event  of  the  journey 
was  the  buying  of  a  large  tract  of  land  just  outside  the 
city;  to  AveHne  it  was  the  coming  of  Fulke.  He 
arrived  on  the  very  day  on  which  they  set  foot  in  New 


2o8  FREE   TO    SERVE 

York,  and  from  that  moment  the  attraction  of  New  York 
for  AveHne  was  secure. 

The  last  time  she  saw  those  quaint  Dutch  streets  she 
had  been  sure  that  Sir  Julian  and  Joan  were  right,  and 
that  the  venturing  to  America  was  a  mistake.  To-day 
she  was  willing  to  reserve  her  judgment.  For  Fulke 
was  prospering,  and  was  looking  forward  with  eager 
anticipation  to  the  trading  that  would  come  in  the 
summer  months,  when  he  would  have  his  first  dealings 
with  the  Indians.  Already  there  was  a  change  in  him, 
a  reflection  of  the  sturdier  life  he  was  leading.  He  was 
not  more  self-reliant  than  before,  but  Aveline  found  him 
more  reliable. 

The  happiness  in  her  heart  was  mirrored  in  her  face, 
and  it  was  no  wonder  that  Pieter  Feljer  beamed  proudly 
on  her  when  he  saw  the  inquiring  glances  cast  in  her 
direction,  or  that  madam  looked  well  to  the  details  of 
her  toilet  before  she  introduced  her  as — "A  young 
English  maid  whom  I  have  taken  under  my  wing  while 
her  brother  is  engaged  in  trade.  She  is  fast  making 
me  forget  that  I  have  no  daughter." 

It  was  thus  she  introduced  her  in  the  house  in  which 
she  and  her  husband  were  guests  during  their  stay  in 
New  York,  and  it  was  thus  she  spoke  of  her  on  the  day 
when  Pieter  and  Madam  Feljer  had  the  honour  to  meet 
the  governor  in  one  of  the  more  palatial  dwellings  of 
the  city. 

There  was  a  little  awe  in  Aveline's  heart  when  she 
found  herself  one  of  the  brilliant  company  gathered 
together  in  this  colonial  mansion  to  meet  Lord  Corn- 
bury.  She  tried  to  remember  all  Lady  Betty's  instruc- 
tions, and  look  well  to  her  ways,  that  that  good  lady 
might  have  no  cause  to  be  ashamed  of  her  could  she 
see  her  to-day.  The  immense  rooms,  the  heavy  carved 
furniture,  the  wealth  of  plate,  and  the  abundance  of 
servants,  were  all  imposing,  and    a    trifle   bewildering, 


FREE   TO    SERVE  209 

after  her  quiet  life  at  the  manor  house,  but  if  she  feared 
a  httle,  the  fear  only  added  grace  to  her  manner. 

Pieter  Feljer  found  the  new  governor  an  affable  and 
pleasant  gentleman  on  that  occasion.  Later  on,  men 
called  him  haughty  and  arrogant,  but  if  some  tinge  of 
pride  appeared  in  his  demeanour,  it  was  not  allowed  to 
be  too  pronounced  as  he  discussed  with  the  old  Dutch 
gentleman  the  affairs  of  the  province  as  they  presented 
themselves  to  a  large  land-owner.  He  did  not  disdain 
even  to  take  an  interest  in  Pieter  Feljer's  personal  con- 
cerns. He  asked  of  the  extent  of  his  possessions,  and 
the  status  of  his  tenants,  and  informed  himself  of  the 
character  of  the  land  in  the  mountain-bound  district 
above  Kingston  at  Esopus. 

"And  yonder  maiden,"  he  continued,  "should  be 
your  daughter,  for,  if  I  mistake  not,  your  eyes  follow 
her  with  a  glance  that  is  not  less  than  paternal." 

"  All  in  good  time,  your  Excellency,"  said  Pieter,  the 
old  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"  Ah,  I  see.  There  is  a  scion  of  the  good  old  Dutch 
stock  who  has  taste  equal  to  that  of  his  father." 

"  Nay,  but  there  are  two,"  said  Pieter,  with  a  chuckle. 
"  A  dangerous  combination,"  replied  Lord  Cornbury, 
and  there  was  a  little  extra  light  in  his  own  eye.      "  And 
the  maid?     She  is  not  of  Dutch  birth?  " 

"  No,  she  comes  of  a  fine  old  English  family.  The 
youth,  her  brother,  is  to  be  thanked  that  she  is  not  still 
in  her  own  land." 

Of  the  character  of  the  English  maiden  Lord  Corn- 
bury  seemed  disposed  to  judge  for  himself,  for  he 
deigned  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  Madam  Feljer, 
and  that  good  lady  found  him  no  less  affable  than  her 
husband  had  done.  It  was  noticed  that  he  talked 
longer  with  Aveline  than  with  any  other  lady  present. 
It  was  a  distinction  which  caused  a  few  of  the  stately 
dames  of  New  York  to  look  askance  at  the  youthful 


2IO  FREE   TO    SERVE 

stranger,  and  confirmed  Madame  Feljer  in  her  high 
opinion  of  Lord  Cornbury's  taste. 

Aveline  herself  found  her  fears  vanish  when  she  was 
actually  in  conversation  with  the  great  man  of  the  prov- 
ince —  the  cousin  of  Queen  Anne  herself.  He  knew 
how  to  make  himself  agreeable,  and  how  to  draw  the 
shy  smiles  to  his  companion's  lips.  She  found  herself 
telling  him  of  Sir  Julian  and  Lady  Betty,  and  even  of 
Fulke's  prospects,  and  her  own  joy  thereat.  But  when 
he  remarked :  "  Your  good  uncle  stands  little  chance 
of  welcoming  back  his  niece  and  ward,  if  rumour  speak 
the  truth,"  the  colour  dyed  her  face,  and  the  smile  on 
her  lips  changed  to  a  nervous  quiver.  The  change  did 
not  escape  the  governor's  eye. 

"  Nay,  nay,  fair  maid.  I  swear  that  none  shall  cause 
you  distress,"  he  said  kindly.  "We  will  issue  our  man- 
date against  any  undue  coercion  of  the  will  of  the  maid- 
ens of  our  domain.  These  young  Dutchmen  shall  win 
the  treasure  in  all  fairness  before  they  dare  to  seize  it, 
and  if  either  should  take  unfair  advantage,  I  will  myself 
acquaint  him  with  the  rights  of  English  maidenhood, 
and  with  our  pleasure  that  these  rights  should  be  re- 
spected." 

The  tremulousness  had  gone  from  Aveline's  face. 
She  had  feared  that  his  words  had  another  meaning. 
The  flush  was  not  as  quick  to  depart.  It  is  not  certain 
that  Lord  Cornbury  judged  it  to  detract  from  her 
charms.  He  was  studying  her  face  closely,  and  he 
seemed  in  no  hurry  to  banish  that  ruddy  glow,  or  his 
next  words  would  surely  have  been  left  unsaid. 

"  Which  of  the  two,  think  you,  will  be  the  first  to 
come  under  the  ban  of  our  displeasure?  "  he  asked,  and 
his  eyes  smiled,  though  his  lips  were  grave. 

"  Neither,  your  Excellency,"  said  Aveline  demurely. 

"What?     You  would  shield  both?" 

The  smile  broke  about  her  lips  again. 


FREE    TO    SERjVE  211 

"  No,  your  Lordship.  It  were  safer  to  order  myself  so 
that  neither  shall  transgress,"  she  said. 

"  You  will  have  need  to  order  that  face  of  yours  that 
it  may  be  less  witching  then,"  he  replied,  and  laughed 
as  she  dropped  him  a  courtesy,  and  let  her  eyelids  veil 
her  eyes  from  his  gaze. 

It  was  no  wonder  that  in  one  family  opinion  was 
unanimous  in  favour  of  the  new  governor. 

Once  again,  during  the  time  which  intervened  be- 
tween his  reception  by  the  city  and  the  official  procla- 
mation of  the  successor  of  William  III.,  did  Aveline 
have  the  opportunity  to  see  a  little  more  of  the  new 
ruler  than  fell  to  the  lot  of  the  ordinary  citizen.  The 
meeting  was  a  chance  one,  for  she  had  set  out  to  see, 
not  the  governor,  but  the  fort.  On  this  occasion  she 
was  under  Fulke's  protection,  and  was  so  much  like  the 
Aveline  of  old  times  that  the  young  man  drew  more 
than  one  long  breath  of  relief. 

It  was  to  the  inner  life  of  the  fort  that  he  was  about 
to  introduce  his  sister,  having  made  the  acquaintance  of 
one  of  the  garrison,  who  had  promised  to  show  him  all 
there  was  to  see.  The  old  fort  did  not  take  long  to 
inspect,  and  they  were  passing  into  one  of  the  main  pas- 
sages when  their  guide  exclaimed  hastily : 

"  Stand  aside  !      Here  comes  the  governor." 

"  The  governor !  "  said  Fulke,  with  a  derisive  laugh. 
"  Truly  yon  comer  is  stately  enough  for  my  Lord  Corn- 
bury  himself,  and  might  well  be  mistaken  for  him,  were 
it  not  that  the  form  of  this  majestic  promenader  is  that 
of  the  weaker  sex." 

"  Stand  back  there,  and  keep  a  still  tongue  in  your 
head,"  was  the  sharp  response,  and  the  soldier  thrust  the 
two  into  the  doorway,  and  took  a  becoming  military 
attitude  himself. 

The  imposing  dame  advanced  with  measured  step  and 
head  held  high.     The  face,  haughty  and  handsome,  was 


212  FREE    TO    SERVE 

lengthened  in  appearance  by  the  tall"  tower"  or  "com- 
mode "  worn  by  ladies  of  the  period,  an  elaborate  struct- 
ure of  silk  and  lace,  more  than  a  foot  in  height,  from 
each  side  of  which  hung  broad  ends,  also  of  lace. 

"  Surely  'tis  none  other  than  the  Princess  Anne  —  I 
crave  her  pardon  —  Her  Most  Gracious  Majesty,  Queen 
Anne  herself,"  muttered  Fulke,  as  in  the  wearer  of  the 
richly  wrought  gown,  gathered  up  over  a  flounced  petti- 
coat, he  discerned  the  well-known  features  of  the  royal 
personage  who  had  yet  to  be  proclaimed  queen  in  New 
York. 

The  apparition,  for  it  was  scarcely  less,  was  level  with 
the  door,  but  instead  of  passing  it,  and  going  forward, 
the  new-comer  stopped,  and  looked  for  a  moment  in 
silence  at  the  two. 

"  It  is  the  governor,"  whispered  Fulke,  and  at  the 
same  instant  Aveline  recognized  the  features  of  Lord 
Cornbury.  Both  becomingly  acknowledged  the  pres- 
ence of  royalty's  representative.  The  governor  broke 
the  silence. 

"Ah,  I  have  not  forgotten  this  fair  face.  How  goes 
the  world  with  you,  my  dear  ?  " 

Aveline  answered  him  timidly.  This  dual  character 
confused  her.  As  for  Fulke,  he  hardly  knew  whether  to 
regard  the  speaker  as  the  governor  —  Lord  Cornbury  — 
or  as  the  august  lady  he  resembled. 

"  And  this  is  your  brother,  I  doubt  not,"  said  the  gov- 
ernor, "  the  young  man  of  whom  you  spoke.  I  trust  he 
will  prove  an  acquisition  to  the  province,  and  a  loyal  sub- 
ject of  that  most  gracious  lady,  Her  Majesty,  Queen 
Anne." 

Fulke  bowed  low,  and  the  governor  continued : 

"  You  are  welcome  to  the  fort,  and  more  especially 
on  the  present  occasion.  You  have  now  the  opportu- 
nity to  behold,  not  simply  the  representative,  but  in 
some  measure  the  impersonation,  of  my  royal   cousin, 


FREE   TO    SERVE  213 

that  Most  Gracious  Sovereign,  Queen  Anne.  In  looking 
upon  me  it  requires  but  a  slight  stretch  of  the  imagina- 
tion to  conceive  that  you  look  upon  the  august  features 
of  the  Queen  of  England.  It  is  truly  said  of  me  that  I 
bear  a  striking  resemblance  to  my  revered  cousin,  and  I 
would  quicken  your  loyalty,  and  the  loyalty  of  the 
people  of  this  province,  by  presenting  your  sovereign 
before  your  eyes  in  a  manner  as  nearly  suggestive  of  her 
actual  presence  as  is  compatible  with  the  distance  of  this 
from  the  motherland." 

He  bowed  graciously  to  the  brother  and  sister,  and 
passed  on,  to  quicken  the  loyalty  of  other  sojourners 
in  the  fort. 

"  Of  a  truth,  this  is  a  strange  maggot,"  said  Fulke, 
when  the  governor  was  well  out  of  hearing. 

"  Hush,  he  is  the  governor.  Surely  it  is  a  species  of 
treason  to  speak  other  than  respectfully  of  so  kind  a 
gentleman,"  said  Aveline  warningly. 

"  It  is  not  as  new  to  us  as  to  you,"  remarked  the  sol- 
dier. "  'Tis  an  odd  sight,  but  he  would  be  a  bold  man 
who  would  dare  to  smile  when  my  Lord  Cornbury  was 
passing." 

The  eighteenth  of  June  was  a  second  great  day  in 
the  city  of  New  York.  On  that  occasion  travellers  from 
all  parts  of  the  province  poured  into  the  town  to  wit- 
ness the  ceremonies  attending  the  official  proclamation 
of  Queen  Anne.  The  solemnity  was  attended  with  a 
great  display  of  loyalty,  and  much  state,  such  as  the 
drawing  out  of  all  the  forces,  the  appearance  of  that 
august  body.  Her  Majesty's  Council,  and  of  the  gover- 
nor himself,  attended  by  the  mayor,  the  aldermen  and 
common  council,  the  clergy,  and  all  the  principal  citizens. 
It  was  a  time  of  rejoicing  and  festivity,  but  to  Aveline 
it  was  not  as  gay  as  the  day  on  which  the  governor  was 
welcomed.  Then  Fulke  was  with  her,  but  to-day  only 
Pieter  and  Madam  Feljer  were  her  companions. 


214  FREE    TO    SERVE 

"  It  is  a  brave  sight  enough,  but  the  manor  house 
suits  me  better,"  madam  said.  "  I  doubt  my  eyes  are 
getting  over-old  for  much  sight-seeing." 

"  To-morrow  the  governor  starts  for  New  Jersey," 
said  Pieter,  "'and  in  a  few  days  we  will  follow  his  ex- 
ample, and  set  out  for  home.  The  last  arrangements 
about  the  land  shall  be  made  at  once.  Then  Geysbert 
will  have  cause  to  be  content.  His  portion  will  be 
broad  enough  to  meet  his  expectations,  and  next  year 
we  will  come  back,  and  he  shall  build  him  a  house 
to  suit  his  taste.  After  that  there  will  be  nothing 
for  him  to  do  but  find  himself  a  mistress  for  his 
dwelling." 

He  looked  a  little  sharply  at  Aveline  as  he  spoke. 
Geysbert  was  his  eldest  son,  and  there  was  in  the  old 
man's  heart  a  little  leaning  towards  giving  him  an  elder 
son's  privilege,  the  pick  of  his  father's  possessions.  It 
was  Geysbert's  own  desire  to  have  an  estate  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  the  city,  and  let  the  manor  house  fall  to 
Helmer.  He  had  always  had  an  inclination  towards 
trade,  and  he  wanted  to  be  near  the  business  heart  of 
the  province.  Perhaps  the  thought  that  he  could  there 
offer  Aveline  attractions  not  to  be  found  in  the  quiet  of 
the  old  manor  house  had  something  to  do  with  his 
determination.  Pieter  would  have  liked  to  have  been 
a  little  surer  that  the  mistress  Geysbert  wanted  for  his 
home  would  consent  to  preside  over  it. 

"Well,  little  sight-seer,  have  you  had  enough  of  the 
city?  "  he  asked. 

"  Quite,"  replied  Aveline  firmly. 
"  And  you  are  ready  to  go  back?  " 
"  Of  course  I  am,  with  you  and  madam." 
"  Oh,  the  old  folks  are  the  attraction,  eh?" 
He  gave  her  cheek  a  pinch,  and  then  noted  the  colour 
that  swept  over  it.      It  was  not  all  due  to  the  action  ul 
his  fingers. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  215 

"  Wait  till  next  summer,"  he  said.  "  Then  we  will  see 
which  answers  best  as  escort,  the  old  man  or  the  young." 

Madam  Feljer  said  nothing,  but  she  too  was  watching 
Aveline.  Perhaps  her  conclusions  did  not  differ  mate- 
rially from  those  of  her  husband.  Whatever  they  were, 
they  did  not  bring  a  frown  to  her  brow.  Pieter  had 
a  deep  crease  between  his  eyes  just  now,  but  madam's 
face  was  smooth  and  calm. 

It  was  not  many  days  later  when  Aveline  accompa- 
nied Pieter  on  his  final  expedition  to  inspect  the  land, 
and  complete  the  purchase  of  the  same.  The  old  man 
was  in  high  spirits. 

"  There  will  be  a  Feljer  to  take  part  in  city  ceremo- 
nies soon,"  he  said.  "  The  governor  wants  able  young 
men  around  him.  There  are  offices  to  be  filled,  and 
duties  to  be  done  for  the  province.  The  Feljers  have 
been  too  long  buried  among  the  mountains." 

"  Such  a  life  will  suit  Geysbert  well,"  said  Aveline, 
willing  to  give  the  old  man  pleasure.  "  And  the  gov- 
ernor seems  a  kindly  gentleman." 

"And  how  would  it  suit  you,  my  dear?"  he  asked, 
ignoring  the  last  remark. 

"  Oh,  I  think  I  love  the  mountains  too  well  to  part 
from  them,"  she  said  lightly.  "You  and  madam  have 
made  the  manor  house  home  to  me." 

"  You  are  a  grateful  little  lass,"  he  answered. 

They  were  returning  from  their  expedition,  and  near- 
ing  the  outskirts  of  the  city,  having  come  to  a  thorough- 
fare known  as  Maiden  Lane,  or  as  the  Dutch  people 
called  it,  Maagde  Paetje,  the  Virgin's  Path.  It  was  a  very 
new  neighbourhood,  only  laid  out  in  recent  years.  That 
the  path  was  well-trodden  was  due'  less  to  the  fact  that 
the  population  was  stretching  outwards  towards  the  coun- 
try, than  to  the  presence  of  a  little  stream  of  spring  water 
running  through  the  valley.  To  this  spring  the  laun- 
dresses of  the  city  came  for  water,  and  their  coming  an- 


2i6  FREE   TO   SERVE 

swered  the  double  purpose  of  treading  a  firm  path  to 
the  spring,  and  of  giving  to  the  road  its  name. 

For  a  minute  Pieter  drew  rein,  and  sat  looking 
towards  the  city.  Further  citywards  a  procession 
could  be  seen  moving  with  slow,  mournful  step,  its 
central  objects  the  figures  almost  covered  by  a  heavy 
pall. 

"  That  is  the  second  funeral  I  have  seen  to-day," 
said  Pieter,  and  after  that  he  talked  no  more  of  Geys- 
bert  or  the  future. 

"  Is  it  all  right,  and  have  you  completed  the  pur- 
chase?" asked  madam  eagerly,  as  the  two  entered  the 
house. 

"  Yes.  It's  our  land  now,"  answered  Pieter,  rubbing 
his  hands  jubilantly. 

"  That  is  well.     Now  I  can  rest  content,"  she  said. 

But  she  did  not  rest  content.  There  was  a  strange 
uneasiness  about  her.  Though  it  was  past  the  middle 
of  June,  she  complained  of  cold,  and  Aveline  lighted  a 
fire  of  small  wood  on  the  hearth  in  her  bedroom,  and 
persuaded  madam  to  draw  her  chair  close  to  it. 

"  I  am  surely  getting  old  for  sight-seeing,"  she  said. 
"  I  have  never  known  it  tire  me  thus  before." 

Her  hostess  came  to  sit  with  her,  and  recommended 
certain  potions  good  for  a  chill,  but  when  she  was  well 
out  of  madam's  sight  she  shook  her  head. 

"  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  she  were  taken  with  the 
same  ailment  that  has  laid  Lisbeth  Govertsen  low,"  she 
confided  to  her  husband. 

"  I'm  fairly  tired  —  tired  right  into  these  old  bones," 
madam  said  to  Pieter  in  the  morning.  "  Go  you  and 
see  all  that  is  to  be  seen,  and  hear  all  that's  to  hear. 
For  me,  my  head  will  stand  no  more  city  noises.  It 
aches  as  if  those  rattling  wagons  were  being  driven 
clear  through   it." 

"You  don't  think  there's    anything  really  wrong?" 


FREE   TO   SERVE  217 

Pieter  asked,  as  he  met  Aveline  without  the  door.  He 
looked  at  her  appealingly. 

"  No,  I  hope  not.  Just  a  chill,  in  all  probability,"  she 
replied,  and  she  smiled  at  him  reassuringly. 

Pieter  went  out.  When  he  returned  he  looked  ten 
years  older. 

"  How  is  she?"  he  asked  quickly. 

"  Neither  better  nor  worse,  I  think,"  said  Aveline. 

The  old  man  dropped  into  a  chair. 

"  I  would  give  all  I  possess  not  to  have  come  to  New 
York,"  he  said. 

Aveline  looked  at  him  in  alarm. 

"  The  city  is  stricken.  Fully  a  dozen  are  down,  and 
she  —  I  doubt  it  is  the  fever  too." 

"  Nay,  nay,  Pieter  Feljer.  What  is  this  for  a  begin- 
ning to  a  sickness?"  said  his  hostess,  coming  in  on  him 
suddenly.  "  How  is  the  good  vrouw  to  pull  through  if 
you  meet  her  with  a  face  that  long?  If  so  be  it  is  the 
fever,  all  the  more  need  of  determination  to  fight  for 
her  life.     'Twill  take  more  than  a  long  face  to  do  that." 

He  was  on  his  feet  instantly.  "  You  speak  truth, 
Ragel  Vanderhorn,"  he  said.  "  I'm  a  selfish  old  man. 
Wyntie  made  but  a  bad  bargain  in  me,  I  fear.  Yet  I 
have  not  been  altogether  inactive.  I  sought  out  a 
doctor  as  I  returned,  and  left  notice  for  him  to  follow. 
The  good  man  had  gone  elsewhere." 

"  Pieter  !     Was  that  Pieter's  voice?  " 

Madam's  restlessness  had  increased  instead  of  dimin- 
ishing.    She  heard  her  husband   below. 

"  Yes,  Wyntie.      I'm  coming." 

And  he  did  come,  with  the  speed  of  a  young  man. 
He  drew  breath  heavily  when  he  reached  the  top  of 
the  stairs.  Aveline  waited  for  a  minute,  to  speak  with 
Mrs.  Vanderhorn. 

"  What  is  it?  "  she  asked,  in  a  frightened  whisper. 

^  Fever,  so  they  say.    There  has  been  more  than  one 


2i8  FREE   TO    SERVE 

death  already.  'Tis  a  distemper  the  sailors  bring  from 
the  islands  of  the  West  Indies.  It  was  a  sailor  brought 
it  this  time  from  St.  Thomas." 

"  Do  you  think  madam  has  caught  it?  " 

"  Heaven  only  knows,  child.  It  looks  amazingly 
like   it." 

Before  the  day  was  over  Aveline  could  have  answered 
the  question  for  herself.  Madam  lay  tossing  in  fever 
and  pain,  and  Pieter  watched  by  her  side  like  a  faithful 
dog,  ready  to  spring  up  at  her  slightest  request.  Two 
days  later  one  of  the  negro  servants  in  the  house  was 
smitten.  With  her  the  disease  took  but  a  short  course. 
There  was  little  care  required.  She  succumbed  at  once, 
and  a  coffin  was  almost  the  only  necessity.  When  the 
body  had  been  carried  out,  Ragel  Vanderhorn  sought 
Pieter. 

"  You  are  welcome  to  stay  here  as  long  as  you  like," 
she  said.  "  For  me  and  my  man,  we  are  going  to  his 
sister's  over  on  Long  Island.  There's  no  sense  in  more 
of  us  dying  than  are  called  upon.  I'll  leave  you  Nance 
to  wait  on  you.  If  she  should  take  the  fever,  you'll 
have  to  look  out  for  yourselves." 

The  household  was  a  very  silent  one  when  its  mistress 
was  gone.  Black  Nance  went  in  a  frightened  way  about 
her  work  in  the  kitchen,  and  Aveline  and  Pieter  watched 
above.  The  doctor  came  and  went  with  anxiety  on  his 
face.  He  had  many  patients  now.  The  city,  which  a 
fevi'  days  before  had  been  jubilant,  was  in  mourning.  It 
was  not  simply  that  sickness  was  there,  but  that  death, 
in  the  great  majority  of  cases,  followed  close  on  the 
heels  of  sickness. 

It  was  a  dread  visitor  that  had  come  to  greet  the  new 
governor.  He  shrank  from  it,  not  altogether  on  his 
own  account.  Pieter  Feljer  met  him  after  his  return 
from  New  Jersey.  The  old  man  stopped.  He  must 
needs  tell  of  his  sorrow. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  219 

"  How  goes  it  with  you  in  these  times?"  asked  the 
governor,  himself  aroused  from  troubled  thoughts. 

"  Sorely,  your  Excellency,  sorely,"  said  Pieter.  "  It 
was  a  sad  day  when  I  left  the  manor  house.  My  wife 
is  laid  low." 

The  governor's  brow  contracted.  The  words  touched 
a  responsive  chord. 

"  I  extend  to  you  my  sympathy,"  he  said.  "  I  see 
your  anxiety  in  your  face.  I  myself  am  not  without 
similar  care.  Lady  Cornbury  is  not  like  your  good 
lady.  She  knows  nothing  of  the  vigour  of  health. 
Were  the  breath  of  this  accursed  disease  to  touch  her, 
she  would  succumb  at  once.  I  am  even  now  on  my  way 
to  make  arrangements  for  removing  her  from  the  city." 

"  Whither  will  you  go  ?  "  asked  Pieter,  for  the  moment 
losing  the  sense  of  his  own  sorrow  in  the  troubles  of  the 
governor. 

"  To  Jamaica,  on  Long  Island.  I  have  had  an  offer 
that  speaks  much  for  the  loyalty  of  its  originator,  the 
pastor  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  in  that  place.  The 
worthy  gentleman  has  behaved  uncommonly  well.  He 
has  offered  to  take  his  family  from  the  parsonage,  and 
leave  the  place  — which  I  understand  is  a  new  structure, 
and  therefore  may  well  suit  my  purpose  —  at  my  dis- 
posal until  such  time  as  Lady  Cornbury  and  my  children 
can  safely  be  brought  back  to  the  city.  I  am  on  my 
way  to  inspect  the  house.  If  it  turn  out  satisfactory,  I 
shall  lose  no  time  in  removing  my  family  thither,  for  it 
is  near  enough  for  the  business  of  the  province  to  be 
transacted  there  instead  of  here." 

"Your  Lordship  will  be  acting  wisely,"  said  Pieter. 
"  It  was  very  thoughtful  of  the  good  man." 

All  the  way  home  Pieter  was  busy  with  thoughts  of 
the  invalid  wife  of  the  governor. 

"  Poor  lady,"  he  said.  "I  trust  the  precaution  may 
not  be  too  late.  ' 


220  FREE   TO   SERVE 

But  when  he  came  in  sight  of  the  house  where  madam 
lay,  Lady  Cornbury  was  forgotten,  and  the  old  man 
dropped  into  his  place  in  the  ranks,  and  helped  to 
carry  on  the  fight  for  life  that  was  being  waged 
there. 

He  rarely  left  his  wife's  side,  except  on  some  neces- 
sary errand.  He  would  sit  and  watch  her  and  Aveline 
with  a  dumb  faithfulness  that  never  overlooked  a  want, 
or  neglected  the  smallest  opportunity  to  be  useful. 
Aveline  did  not  know  how  many  steps  he  saved  her, 
nor  realize  how  he  planned  to  meet  her  every  need, 
until  she  found  ready  to  her  hand  just  the  article  she 
wanted  at  the  moment.  His  thoughtfulness  took  off 
her  shoulders  all  the  heavier  tasks,  and  left  her  free  for 
those  more  delicate  ministrations  which  his  clumsy 
fingers  performed  but  awkwardly.  His  face  grew  very 
old  and  careworn,  and  there  was  a  tired  look  in  his 
eyes  that  would  not  have  escaped  Aveline's  notice  had 
she  not  been  so  much  engrossed  with  madam. 

The  fight  was  a  hard  one,  but  the  watchers  were  win- 
ning. Aveline  was  beginning  to  be  sure  of  it  now.  She 
told  Pieter  so  one  day,  and  he  laid  his  trembling  hand 
on  her  arm. 

"The  Lord  be  thanked,"  he  said.  '*  I  think  you  are 
right." 

He  tried  to  smile,  but  his  lips  quivered  instead,  and 
Aveline  noticed  that  his  face  did   not  lighten. 

"  He  is  tired,"  she  said,  and  turned  to  attend  to 
madam. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  221 


CHAPTER   XXI 

PIETER  FELJER  had  taken  the  fever.     He  knew 
it  himself  long  before  Aveline  found  it  out.      His 
bones  ached,  and  his  head  seemed  nothing  but  a 
centre  of  weariness  and  pain. 

"  I  won't  let  her  know  yet,"  he  said.  "  I  must  keep 
up  to  the  last  moment.  The  poor  little  lass  has  enough 
on  her  hands.     Wyntie  must  not  be  neglected." 

He  did  keep  up,  saying  no  word  of  his  pain  and 
weariness,  going  patiently  back  and  forth  between  his 
own  room  and  his  wife's  every  half  hour,  as  he  had 
taken  to  doing  for  the  last  day  or  two,  forcing  into  his 
voice  a  forlorn  imitation  of  cheerfulness,  and  carefully 
noting  everything  that  needed  to  be  done  before  setting 
about  the  tasks  that  were  never  more  scrupulously  per- 
formed than  now,  though  when  they  were  completed  he 
staggered  away  to  throw  himself  heavily  upon  his  bed, 
and  with  pathetic  patience  try  once  more  to  rest  those 
weary  bones. 

"  Geysbert,  my  boy,  I  doubt  you'll  never  see  your 
old  father  again,"  he  said  drearily,  as  for  the  twentieth 
time  he  dragged  himself  across  the  room,  and  buried 
his  aching  head  in  the  depths  of  the  pillow.  "  But  the 
land's  yours,  my  boy.     I've  seen  to  that." 

"  Why,  what  is  it?     You  are  not  sick?  " 

He  had  forgotten  to  shut  the  door,  and  Aveline, 
crossing  the  upper  hall,  could  see  him  where  he  lay. 
She  had  heard  his  words.  Now  she  looked  anxiously 
into  his  face. 

"  Nay,  sir,  but  you  have  hidden  it  from  me,"  she 
said,  in  a  chiding  tone.  "  You  should  have  been  cared 
for  long  ago.     When  did  it  first  come  on?  " 


222  FREE   TO    SERVE 

"  I  don't  know.  I  forget.  It  seems  as  though  my 
bones  had  ached  forever,"  he  said,  a  weak  attempt  at 
a  smile  disturbing  the  heavy  hnes  into  which  his  face 
had  fallen. 

Tears  filled  Aveline's  eyes.  She  had  learned  to  love 
the  old  man,  and  the  pitiful  loneliness  of  his  suffering 
sent  a  sharp  pang  to  her  heart.  She  had  been  so  taken 
up  with  madam  that  she  had  forgotten  him. 

"  You  must  not  leave  her,"  he  said  imperatively.  "  I 
can  get  along  as  I  have  done  before.  Did  she  want 
anything?  I'll  go  and  fetch  it.  I  was  only  resting  a 
bit." 

He  raised  himself  wearily  as  he  spoke.  She  laid  her 
hand  on  his. 

"  No,  no.  She  is  asleep.  I  came  to  tell  you.  She  is 
sleeping  quietly  and  naturally.     I  am  sure  she  is  better." 

"  God  be  praised,"  he  said  fervently,  and  two  big 
tears  rolled  down  his  careworn  cheeks.  "  Take  care  of 
her,  child.     Never  mind  me." 

"I  wish  I  had  minded  you  sooner,"  said  Aveline 
penitently,  "  I  will  not  go  another  step  until  you  have 
let  me  do  for  you  all  that  the  doctor  ordered  for  her. 
You  must  go  to  bed  at  once." 

"  No,  that  I  will  not.  She  will  want  me.  She  must 
not  know.  It  would  put  her  right  back  again.  Promise 
that  you  will  not  tell  her." 

He  put  out  his  hand  and  held  her  fast. 

"  Not  as  long  as  she  will  rest  content.  There  is  no 
danger  at  present.  Now,  while  she  is  sleeping,  you 
must  let  me  care  for  you." 

Until  he  was  lying  between  the  sheets,  and  Nance 
had  been  dispatched  in  haste  for  the  doctor,  there  was 
no  persuading  her  to  go  back  to  madam.  When  she 
did  go,  it  was  only  to  peep  in  and  return. 

"  She  is  sleeping  still,"  she  said  hopefully.  "  I  am 
sure  you  may  be  at  ease  about  her  now." 


FREE    TO    SERVE  223 

"  Yes,  yes.  It  is  good  news.  But  I  must  not  lie 
here,"  he  expostulated.     "  She  will  miss  me." 

"  I  will  tell  her  what  is  the  truth,  that  you  have  run 
hither  and  thither  until  you  have  wearied  yourself,"  said 
Aveline.  "  She  will  desire  that  you  should  rest.  Then 
I  will  bring  you  her  message,  and  when  she  knows  it  is 
obeyed  she  will  be  satisfied." 

"  You  are  a  good  maid,"  he  said.  "  Go,  child,  and 
see  to  madam." 

"Tired,  is  he?"  asked  madam,  with  a  little  of  the  old 
ring  in  her  voice.  "  Surely  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at. 
And  you  might  well  be  accounted  tired  too,  to  judge  by 
your  face.  Go  and  tell  him  to  rest,  and  do  you  lie 
down  and  sleep.     I  want  nothing  more  now." 

There  was  more  life  in  her  voice  than  had  been  there 
since  the  fever  came,  Aveline  gladly  took  advantage 
of  the  permission  to  hasten  to  Pieter's  side  with  her 
message.  His  face  was  flushed,  and  his  breathing 
laboured. 

"  How  is  she?  "  he  asked. 

"  Better,  and  she  bids  you  rest." 

"  Tell  her  I  will.  Ah,  VVyntie,  lass,  it's  about  the 
only  thing  I  could  have  obeyed  you  in.  These  old  legs 
have  failed  me.     I  can  wait  on  you  no  longer." 

He  buried  his  face  in  the  pillow,  and  Aveline  heard 
two  or  three  heavy  sobs. 

"  Td  have  given  much  to  have  had  one  more  look  at 
her,"  he  said.  "  But  Fm  down  for  good.  I  tried  it 
when  you  were  gone.     There's  no  strength  left  in  me." 

Then  he  uncovered  his  face. 

"  My  lass,"  he  said,  "  I  wanted  to  hear  you  call  me 
father  before  I  went.  You've  been  a  daughter  to  Wyn- 
tie  and  me  in  our  need." 

"  But  you  were  a  father  to  me  first,  when  I  came  to 
you  a  stranger,  and  — "  She  stopped.  He  did  not 
notice  that  the  sentence  was  unfinished. 


224  FREE   TO    SERVE 

"  Would  you  have  given  me  the  right  to  call  you 
daughter  in  the  end?"   he  said. 

"  Perhaps,"  she  replied  shyly,  and  he  asked  no  further. 

"  I  am  glad  the  land  is  all  secure  for  Geysbert,"  he 
said.  "  You  will  learn  yet  to  love  the  city.  As  for 
Helmer,  he  is  happier  at  the  manor  house." 

She  made  him  no  reply.  His  words  were  not  easy  to 
answer. 

"  She  will  recover,"  said  the  doctor  briefly,  when  he 
had  seen  madam.     "  Only  keep  her  very  quiet." 

Then  he  went  to  Pieter. 

"  You'll  not  pull  me  through,  doctor,"  said  the  old 
man  wistfully.  '*  But  you've  done  a  bigger  work  than 
that.     You've  saved  hery 

"Saved  her?  Of  course  I  have.  What  am  I  here 
for  but  to  save  my  patients?  "  he  replied,  but  he  gave  no 
opinion  as  to  Pieter's  condition,  and  he  met  Aveline's 
inquiring  look  with  a  stony  gaze  that  did  not  encourage 
further  questioning. 

Aveline's  heart  was  heavy  when  she  saw  him  depart. 
Madam  must  be  kept  quiet,  and  Pieter  insisted  on  being 
left  alone  so  that  her  every  want  might  be  anticipated. 
He  made  no  complaint  himself. 

"  ril  just  lie  still  here,"  he  said.  "  Pm  no  more  use. 
You'll  have  to  do  for  her  all  by  yourself,  my  poor  lass." 

"  It  is  not  that,"  said  Aveline,  "  but  I  cannot  bear  to 
leave  you.  It  looks  as  if  nobody  cared,  and  I  do  care. 
You  have  been  so  good  to  me." 

That  night  madam  insisted  that  she  should  rest,  and 
she  crept  softly  to  Pieter's  side.  He  looked  up  in  a 
dull  way  as  she  entered.  She  put  her  hand  in  his.  His 
fingers  closed  about  it. 

"  It  is  warm  with  life,"  he  said.  "  I  am  too  old  to 
have  any  more  warm  life.  She'll  get  well.  She's 
younger  than  I  am.  I'm  cold,  child,  deadly  cold.  Life 
and  warmth  are  gone  from  me." 


FREE   TO   SERVE  225 

He  looked  at  her  pitifully.  His  fingers  were  stifif  and 
chilled.  She  hurried  to  put  hot  coals  in  the  brass 
warming-pan,  and  raise  some  artificial  heat  in  the  bed. 
She  warmed  woollen  clothing  and  laid  it  against  him. 
In  spite  of  her  efforts  no  warm  blood  rose  to  send  the 
blue,  chill  look  from  his  hands. 

"  Never  mind,  my  lass,"  he  said.  "  Life  and  warmth 
are  good,  but  they  won't  last.  Don't  try  any  more. 
It's  no  use.  Sit  here  and  put  your  hand  in  mine —  so. 
It  is  warm,  and  —  it  is  not  so  hard  to  die  without 
Wyntie." 

Her  tears  were  falling  fast.  One  dropped  hot  on  his 
hand. 

"  You'll  comfort  Geysbert  —  and  Helmer.  Helmer's 
a  good  boy  —  the  best  of  the  two.  His  mother  knows 
it — but  somehow — Geysbert  has  been  his  father's 
boy  always." 

There  was  a  sound  in  madam's  room. 

"  Go  !  She  needs  you,"  he  said,  and  the  feeble  hand 
tried  to  loose  its  grasp.  It  was  almost  too  stiff  for  the 
task. 

"  It  was  only  the  cracking  of  a  stick  in  the  fire."  said 
Aveline,  returning. 

"  And  Wyntie?  " 

"  She  is  asleep." 

"  Don't  tell  her  till  you  are  forced,"  he  said.  "  She 
must  get  better  now." 

Then  he  was  silent  for  a  long  time.  Once  or  twice 
his  lips  moved,  but  when  Aveline  bent  her  head  to  listen, 
no  sound  came.  He  was  speaking,  but  not  to  her.  She 
kept  silence  reverently.     Suddenly  he  spoke  again. 

"  I'm  cold  —  deadly  cold,"  he  said. 

"Wyntie — "  But  the  voice  failed.  The  chill  of 
death  swept  resistlessly  over  the  warm  old  heart,  and 
froze  it  into  stillness.  His  wife's  name  was  the  last 
he  spoke. 


226  FREE   TO    SERVE 

When  madam  woke  and  called  for  her,  Aveline  could 
leave  him  without  fear.  She  went  about  her  duties  for 
the  invalid,  scarcely  knowing  that  she  did  them.  She 
was  stunned  by  the  shock.  Yesterday  morning  he  had 
taken  his  share  of  the  burdens.  Aveline  remembered 
how  slowly  and  wearily  he  had  struggled  through  them. 
Her  heart  ached  as  she  realized  the  bravery  of  that 
lonely  fight  with  pain  and  exhaustion..  She  had  hard 
work  to  hide  her  agitation  from  madam,  but  for  Pieter's 
sake  she  fought  off  the  weakness. 

"  He  kept  up  for  her  to  the  very  last,"  she  said.  "  I 
will  not  fail  him  now,  and  undo  his  work." 

"  You  must  keep  it  from  her  for  another  day  or 
two,"  said  the  doctor  when  he  came,  "  I  will  arrange 
for  the  funeral.  Even  a  day  may  mean  everything  to 
her." 

Aveline  shrank  from  the  moment  when  she  must  tell 
madam,  and  the  dread  of  it  grew  upon  her  as  the  day 
passed.  Madam  watched  her  closely.  She  did  not 
once  ask  after  her  husband,  but  she  kept  her  eyes  upon 
the  door,  and  her  ears  were  open  to  every  sound.  Every 
minute  Aveline  was  expecting  the  question  that  did  not 
come.  But  as  the  light  was  fading  out  of  the  sky,  and 
she  was  returning  from  a  journey  downstairs,  madam 
greeted  her  with  — 

"  If  Pieter  had  the  fever  you  would  stay  away  longer 
than  you  do." 

The  girl  stood  still  in  the  doorway.  Her  heart  also 
stood  still  on  its  own  account. 

"  I  did  not  mean  to  stay,"  she  faltered. 

"  That  is  neither  here  nor  there,  child.  You  have  not 
stayed.     Why  did  you  not,  if  Pieter  were  taken?  " 

"  He  has  not  the  fever,"  said  Aveline  faintly. 

"  No.      I  know  that." 

There  was  silence.  Aveline  came  in  and  shut  the 
door.     A  sense   of  the  presence  of  death  on  the   other 


FREE   TO    SERVE  227 

side  of  the  hall  prompted  the  action.     She  felt  as  if  she 
must  shut  that  presence  away  from  madam. 

"  Come  here,  child." 

There  was  a  change  in  the  voice.     It  had  lost  hope. 

Aveline  obeyed. 

"  Pieter  would  come  to  me  if  he  were  well,  and  if  he 
were  sick  you  would  go  to  him.     What  follows?  " 

"  Oh,  madam  !  " 

Aveline  bent  her  head,  and  softly  put  her  lips  to  the 
white  forehead.  Madam  put  up  her  hand  —  a  hand  so 
weak  and  thin  —  and  drew  the  face  into  a  position  where 
she  could  see  it  well. 

"  Tell  me,"  she  said. 

"  It  was  just  like  Pieter."  It  was  the  only  comment 
she  made  when  all  was  told. 

"  Go  away  now,  and  leave  me  to  myself."  she  said, 
after  a  long  silence. 

Aveline  went,  fearful  and  trembling.  Had  the  sudden 
shock  rendered  futile  all  Pieter's  efforts?  She  knew  it 
had  not  when  she  returned. 

"  I  am  going  to  get  better  to  look  after  Pieter's  boys 
and  Pieter's  possessions,"  madam  said  firmly,  and  she 
kept  her  word. 

From  that  moment  progress  was  rapid.  She  had  set 
her  will  on  the  side  of  recovery,  and  madam's  will  was 
not  to  be  despised.  To  get  well  was  a  duty  she  owed 
to  Pieter,  and  she  got  well.  She  would  not  allow  Geys- 
bert  or  Helmer  to  be  sent  for. 

"  Coming  into  the  air  of  this  doomed  city  would  be 
fatal  for  them,"  she  said. 

For  the  same  reason  she  decided  that  Pieter  should 
be  buried  in  New  York.  The  usual  funeral  pomp 
amongst  tenants  and  acquaintances  must  be  omitted. 
Another  solemn  procession  passed  through  the  streets 
of  the  city.  A  funeral  was  a  common  sight  now.  Death 
was  coming  to  be  an  every-day  acquaintance.     Through 


228  FREE    TO    SERVE 

that  summer  he  never  allowed  men  to  forget  his  pres- 
ence. He  was  the  town's  uninvited  guest,  and  he 
stayed . 

Over  in  Jamaica,  Long  Island,  Lord  Cornbury  admin- 
istered the  affairs  of  the  province,  and  the  city  was  left 
to  its  desolation.  When  it  was  over,  men  called  that 
summer  the  time  of  the  great  sickness.  It  left  the  city 
as  a  whole  five  hundred  souls  the  poorer,  and  robbed 
individual  homes  of  their  best  treasures. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  229 


CHAPTER    XXII 

"  ^  "W  TELCOME  to   the   manor    house,   my    child, 

\/\/  though  of  a  truth  it  is  hardly  fair  to  show  it 
▼     ▼      to  you  thus  for  the  first  time." 

Madam  Feljer  was  at  home  again.  She  entered  the 
house  quickly.  The  summer  sun  fell  full  on  the  figure 
of  the  girl  who  awaited  her,  standing  in  the  hall  with 
her  face  turned  towards  the  light.  Involuntarily  madam 
stopped.  It  was  five  years  since  she  had  seen  this  girl, 
and  the  years  between  fifteen  and  twenty  are  potent  to 
evolve  the  woman  from  the  child.  Madam  was  bewil- 
dered. Was  this  the  little  Puritan  maid  whom  she  had 
gone  to  comfort  when  Catharine,  madam's  only  sister, 
died?     The  conditions  were  reversed  now. 

"  The  house  of  mourning  is  better  than  the  house  of 
feasting." 

The  voice  was  low  and  musical.  It  had  in  it  a  sug- 
gestion of  the  music  of  wind  and  water,  but  it  was  the 
wind  sighing  among  the  winter  boughs,  and  the  rhyth- 
mical moan  of  the  sea  before  a  storm.  It  was  the 
harmony  of  sadness  rather  than  the  melody  of  joy. 

The  girl  advanced  towards  madam  as  she  spoke,  and 
held  out  both  her  hands.  Then  she  stooped  and  kissed 
the  face  that  was  lifted  to  hers. 

"  Dear  Aunt  Wyntie,"  she  said  softly,  "  the  waters  of 
affliction  are  deep  and  cold." 

Madam  did  not  reply.  For  a  minute  she  folded  the 
girl  in  her  arms,  then  she  held  her  off  and  looked  at  her. 
Those  big,  dark,  sad  eyes  were  the  child  Probity's  eyes, 
but  the  face  was  changed.  It  had  more  than  fulfilled 
its  promise  of  good  looks,  but  it  had  prepared  some 
surprises.     The  mouth,  over-large  for  the  oval  face,  was 


2  30  FREE   TO    SERVE 

too  firm  for  the  softer  testimony  of  the  eyes.  The  feat- 
ures belied  each  other.  The  nose  belonged  to  the 
mouth,  but  the  chin  and  forehead  claimed  affinity  with 
the  eyes.  Just  now  the  whole  face  was  agreed.  It  was 
tender  and  sympathetic. 

"  You  have  grown  amazingly,  child.  You  must  be  — 
yes —  you  are  taller  than  Aveline." 

She  was  standing  very  straight  and  still,  her  lithe, 
slight  figure  looking  taller  in  madam's  presence.  Possi- 
bly she  drew  herself  up  a  trifle  higher  at  the  words,  but 
the  movement  was  scarcely  perceptible. 

"  You  have  seen  her  —  Aveline  Nevard  ?  " 

Madam  asked  the  question  a  little  eagerly.  Her 
niece  had  been  awaiting  her  when  she  returned  from  the 
house  of  a  tenant.  She  had  removed  her  out-door  gar- 
ments, and  looked  as  if  she  had  already  become  at  home 
in  the  manor  house.  Madam  judged  that  her  wants  had 
been  attended  to,  possibly  by  Aveline  herself. 

"  I  have  been  here  fully  half  an  hour.  Yes  —  I  have 
seen  your   maid." 

"  My  daughter,"  said  madam  quickly.  "  Aveline  has 
performed  the  duty  of  a  loving  daughter  to  me  and 
Pieter.     She  was  as  a  daughter  to  us  even  before." 

"  I  understood  from  your  letter  that  she  had  well 
learned  her  duty,  and  had  not  shrunk  from  performing 
it,"  said  the  girl.  "  It  is  well  that  one  brought  up  amidst 
the  vanities  of  the  world,  as  I  doubt  not  she  has  been, 
had  grace  enough  so  far  to  forget  self." 

The  mouth  was  predominant  now. 

"  You  do  not  know  Aveline,"  said  madam  quietly, 
but  she  looked  keenly  at  her  niece.  "  How  did  you 
find  your  way  up  from  the  landing?"  she  asked,  after 
a  moment's  silence. 

"  My  cousin  Geysbert  perceived  the  yacht  before  she 
neared  her  stopping  place,  and  was  at  the  landing  to 
meet  me.      I  did  not  lack  the  kindliest  of  welcomes." 


FREE   TO    SERVE  231 

"  That  is  well,  for  we  are  sufficiently  glad  to  see  you. 
I  must  send  my  thanks  to  your  father  for  sparing  you  to 
us  for  an  indefinite  period.  I  take  it  kindly  of  Strive- 
well." 

"  My  father  was  not  unwilling  to  spare  me,"  said  the 
girl.  "  He  bade  me  stay  as  long  as  I  could  be  of  ser- 
vice, or  until  he  himself  should  recall  me." 

There  was  a  gleam  in  madam's  eye  that  was  not  called 
forth  by  the  actual  words  of  her  niece.  She  was  think- 
ing that  she  understood  Strivewell  Thaxter's  willingness 
to  bereave  himself  of  the  companionship  of  his  only 
child.  There  was  a  part  of  madam's  letter  to  the  old 
Puritan  that  had  not  been  intended  for  Probity's  eye. 
Aye,  and  it  had  not  reached  Probity's  eye.  Strivewell 
Thaxter  was  a  father  of  the  olden  type,  a  type  that  even 
in  those  earliest  years  of  the  eighteenth  century  was 
already  the  old.  Strivewell  had  trained  his  daughter 
for  another  world  than  the  one  in  which  he  thought  he 
beheld  nothing  but  vanity,  yet  he  believed  firmly  that 
the  saints  should  possess  the  earth,  and  there  was  a 
decent  little  piece  of  the  earth  that  would  eventually 
fall  into  the  hands  of  Wyntie  Feljer's  sons.  Strivewell 
was  no  hypocrite,  but  he  was  very  human. 

"  What !  My  cousin  Probity?  And  you  came  when 
none  was  looking  for  you  ?  " 

Helmer  threw  wide  open  the  door,  and  strode  in  with 
a  pleased  smile  on  his  face. 

"Not  so,"  said  Probity.  "  There  was  one  who  was 
looking.     Geysbert  was  at  home  to  receive  me." 

"  Lucky  Geysbert,"  said  Helmer,  and  he  claimed  a 
cousin's  privilege,  and  kissed  the  soft  cheek  that  for  the 
moment  lost  its  ivory  tint. 

As  he  lifted  his  head,  he  saw  Aveline  standing  in  the 
open  doorway.  There  was  a  flush  on  her  face,  and  a 
look  in  her  eyes  that  brought  the  quick  words  to  Hel- 
mer's  lips. 


232  FREE   TO    SERVE 

"  What  is  it?      There  is  something  wrong." 

"  Kip,"  she  said;  and  the  muscles  about  her  month 
worked  sympathetically. 

Now,  if  there  was  anything  on  earth  that  Helmer  held 
especially  dear,  it  was  his  dog  Kip.  Ever  since  Kip 
was  a  puppy,  five  years  ago,  the  two  had  been  insepa- 
rable. It  would  have  been  hard  to  tell  which  would  have 
stood  the  greater  test,  the  love  of  the  young  man  for  the 
dog,  or  the  love  of  the  dog  for  the  youth,  his  master. 

"Where  is  he?  "  he  asked  hurriedly. 

"  By  the  Near  Field.  The  reapers  are  at  work  there. 
His  leg  is  broken." 

The  words  came  with  a  smothered  sob.  Aveline  too 
loved  Kip. 

"Who  did  it?" 

Helmer  was  already  outside  the  door,  taking  rapid 
strides  in  the  direction  of  the  Near  Field. 

"  Geysbert." 

Her  voice  was  low,  but  it  reached  his  ears.  He 
stopped,  and  turned  towards  her. 

"  Go,"  she  said.      "  He  is  in  need  of  you." 

Helmer  went  without  another  word,  but  his  lips  were 
pressed  tightly  together. 

He  did  not  know  that  Aveline's  sympathies  drew  her 
feet  in  the  direction  his  own  were  taking,  nor  that  Prob- 
ity turned  to  her  aunt  when  he  was  gone,  and  said  : 

"  If  you  see  no  harm  in  the  action,  I  will  follow  my 
cousin  Helmer.  There  were  signs  in  his  face  of  that 
heat  of  spirit  which  may  kindle  strife." 

"  Nonsense,  child,"  said  madam.  "  You  may  go 
where  you  like,  but  Helmer  and  Geysbert  understand 
each  other  well  enough  to  be  in  no  danger  of  being  put 
materially  apart,  though  once  and  again  they  may  find 
cause  to  quarrel  in  brotherly  style." 

But  when  her  niece  was  gone,  madam  stood  in  the 
hall  and  looked  out  at  the  bright  sunshine.     Her  hands 


FREE   TO   SERVE  233 

were,  for  a  wonder,  unoccupied,  and  her  face  was  troubled. 
It  was  older-looking  by  years  than  when  she  left  the 
manor  house  for  New  York.  Her  neighbours  said  the 
fever  had  told  on  her.  Madam  said  :  "  Pieter  and  I  have 
lived  too  long  together  for  either  to  take  up  the  whole 
of  life  again  without  the  other.  You  are  looking  for 
Wyntie  Feljer,  the  wife  of  Pieter.  You  see  Wyntie 
Feljer,  the  widow,  and  you  give  the  fever  the  credit  for 
the  change." 

Probity  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  her  way  to  the 
Near  Field.  It  lay  just  back  of  the  barn,  and  she  could 
see  the  reapers  at  work  there  as  she  came  nearer,  and 
hear  the  voice  of  her  cousin  Geysbert. 

"  Better  shoot  the  brute  and  be  done  with  it." 

Geysbert  stood  inside  the  field,  looking  over  the 
fence.  On  his  knees  in  the  roadway  Helmer  was  bend- 
ing over  Kip,  his  movements  now  and  then  eliciting  a 
quick  yelp  of  pain,  which  was  instantly  atoned  for  by 
an  attempt  to  lick  the  hands  that  were  pressing  into  the 
torn  and  crushed  flesh  of  the  dog's  leg.  Helmer  was 
trying  to  bring  the  edges  of  the  broken  bone  together. 

"  Which  brute  do  you  mean?  I  recognize  but  one 
just  now.  The  law  doesn't  allow  that  kind  of  brute  to 
be  shot." 

Helmer  did  not  look  up  as  he  spoke.  He  was  intent 
on  getting  the  bone  in  position.  Geysbert  understood 
the  tone,  however. 

"  You  want  a  bandage." 

It  was  Aveline's  voice.  Helmer  had  not  known  that 
she  was  there.  He  looked  up  surprised,  but  there  was 
no  surprise  on  Geysbert's  face. 

"  It  was  good  of  you  to  think  of  it,"  said  Helmer, 
and  their  eyes  met  as  he  took  the  strip  of  soft  linen, 
and  the  splint  she  had  hastily  procured.  Tyte  had 
placed  himself  at  Helmer's  elbow  to  watch  proceedings. 
Nothing  escaped  his  sharp  eyes.     He  had   already  en- 


234  .        FREE   TO    SERVE 

lightened  Mars'r  Helmer  as  to  the  particular  crack  in 
the  rough  logs  by  the  gate  where  Kip  had  caught  his 
foot  when  Geysbert  urged  the  oxen  forward. 

"  Dat  where  he  catch  himself.  Mars'r  Geysbert  make 
the  oxen  go,  for  sure,"  said  the  small  Tyte. 

Helmer's  face  darkened  as  he  listened,  but  all  the 
time  he  was  examining  Kip's  leg.  Now,  as  he  drew  the 
bandage  tight,  he  found  time  to  look  up.  Something 
in  Geysbert's  eye  exasperated  him. 

"The  next  time  you  want  to  hurt  me,  don't  do  it 
through  a  dog,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  that,  low  as  it  was, 
reached  Probity's  ears  where  she  stood,  out  by  the  cor- 
ner of  the  barn.  "  It  is  a  method  that  is  not  altogether 
safe." 

"  Anger  is  never  safe,  cousin  Helmer." 

She  drew  nearer. 

"  Well  said,  fair  cousin.  You  must  teach  Helmer 
here  to  look  at  life  through  your  eyes.  According  to 
your  motto  he  is  often  in  danger." 

Geysbert  laughed  aggravatingly,  and  then  stood  and 
noted  the  flush  his  words  brought  to  another  face  than 
Helmer's. 

"  It  is  worth  running  over  a  dog  to  attract  such  fair 
sympathizers,"  he  added,  after  a  moment's  silence 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  " 

There  was  a  ring  in  Aveline's  voice  that  was  not  un- 
noticed by  Geysbert,  though  he  chose  to  ignore  it. 

"  Surely,"  he  replied.  "  Nothing  less  would  have 
called  together  the  present  company." 

"  Or  have  given  so  good  an  opportunity  for  character 
to  display  itself,"  said  Aveline,  the  colour  in  her  cheeks 
deepening. 

Geysbert  looked  annoyed,  but  he  stood  his  ground. 

"  Kip  is  a  lucky  dog,"  he  remarked. 

The  dog's  great  sorrowful  eyes  were  turned  upward  at 
the  sound  of  his  name. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  235 

"  Come,  Kip,"  said  Helmer  shortly.  "  Better  try 
and  get  out  of  the  way,  old  boy.  It  might  be  found 
inconvenient  to  avoid  driving  over  you  when  the  oxen 
return." 

"  You're  a  peppery  fellow,"  said  Geysbert,  and  turned 
away  whistling. 

Probity  laid  her  hand  on  Helmer's  arm, 

"  Cousin,"  she  said,  "  the  avoidance  of  unjust  judg- 
ment is  as  shining  a  virtue  as  compassion  itself.  The 
rarely  beautiful  gift  of  brotherly  love  is  worth  seeking 
for." 

"  That's  right.  Probity.  Give  him  a  little  cousinly 
advice.  He  is  in  sad  need  of  it,"  said  Geysbert,  over 
his  shoulder. 

He  nodded  familiarly  to  his  cousin,  including  Aveline 
in  the  action,  and  went  whistling  across  the  field  to 
where  the  oxen  stood  yoked  to  the  big  wagon.  He 
chuckled  a  little  to  himself. 

Probity  had  proved  very  helpful.  He  began  to  see 
that  cousins  might  be  useful  on  occasion. 

He  was  not  sorry  for  Kip.  Had  it  been  any  other 
dog  than  Kip  he  might  have  been  sorry.  Had  it  been 
any  other  dog  than  Kip  he  would  probably  have  been  less 
impetuous.  He  had  seen  the  animal,  and  carelessly 
noted  his  movements  as  he  caught  his  foot  in  the  rough 
bridge  by  the  gate.  A  negro  on  the  other  side  had  even 
called  —  "  Look  out,  Mars'r  Geysbert !  "  but  the  warning 
was  late.  Geysbert  had  already  urged  on  the  oxen. 
The  wagon  rolled  forward.  Of  course  he  had  expected 
that  the  brute  would  look  out  for  himself,  and  if  not  — 
why,  he  must  take  the  consequences.  Thus  he  had 
reasoned,  when  that  sharp  scream  of  pain  told  him  that 
Kip  had  not  been  able  to  look  out  for  himself.  He  did 
not  reason  now ;   he  smiled,  and  exulted  a  little. 

Pieter  Feljer  was  right.  One  plum  for  two  mouths 
was  a  tantalizing  morsel.     It  had  proved  more  tantaliz- 


236  FREE   TO    SERVE 

ing  than  he  had  realized,  and  the  mouth  that  was  Hke 
to  get  the  least  of  it  found  in   itself  a  bitter  taste. 

Since  the  day  of  the  chaise-party  feeling  had  not  been 
as  of  old  between  Geysbert  and  Helmer.  The  quarrel 
with  Myndert  had  further  widened  the  breach.  Neither 
Helmer  nor  Geysbert  could  quite  get  rid  of  the  idea 
that  the  latter  was  involved  in  the  quarrel,  and  when, 
one  day,  Helmer  found  himself  called  upon  to  give 
the  savage  insolence  of  young  Myndert  an  effectual  les- 
son, Geysbert  chose  to  take  the  matter  as  a  personal 
affront. 

As  for  Myndert  himself,  he  could  never  forgive  Hel- 
mer for  laying  him  low  in  the  presence  of  his  own 
slaves,  and  though,  after  the  further  development  of  the 
case,  he  had  a  wholesome  dread  of  the  strength  of  Hel- 
mer's  arm,  he  watched  for  an  opportunity  to  get  even 
with  him  without  danger  to  himself. 

The  weeks  during  which  Pieter  and  Madam  Feljer 
were  in  New  York  were  not,  on  the  whole,  peaceable  ones 
at  the  manor  house.  Pieter  Feljer's  death,  and  madam's 
return,  had  for  the  time  caused  all  differences  to  be  for- 
gotten, but  the  breach  was  not  healed. 

Aveline  and  Probity  walked  from  the  Near  Field 
together.  They  could  hardly  help  walking  together, 
because  it  was  the  most  natural  thing  to  do.  But  just 
now  it  was  not  the  easiest.  There  was  some  difficulty 
in  being  non-partisan.  Aveline  had  herself  witnessed 
the  affair  of  the  oxen,  though  from  some  distance,  and 
her  sympathies  were  with  Kip  —  and  Kip's  master. 
The  flush  had  not  yet  left  her  cheek.  She  did  not  know 
how  that  warmer  hue,  and  the  fire  in  her  eyes,  lent  brill- 
iancy to  a  face  that  Probity  had  already  decided  pos- 
sessed too  much  carnal  beauty  to  be  of  anything  but  the 
earth.  Probity  turned  her  head  to  gain  a  good  view  of 
the  face  under  its  present  aspect.  She  even  leant  for- 
ward, ever  so  slightly,  the  more  effectually  to  compass 


FREE   TO    SERVE  237 

her  purpose.  The  charm  of  that  face  deepened  the 
disapproval  in  Probity's  eyes.  She  concluded  that  the 
flush  of  anger  unmistakably  betokened  an  earthward 
tendency. 

"  You  have  not  yet  entered  upon  the  blessed  office 
of  peacemaker  in  my  aunt's  household,"  she  said,  and 
the  music  in  her  voice  was  less  soothing  than  when  she 
greeted  her  aunt. 

Aveline  darted  an  interrogatory  glance  at  her. 

"  No  —  possibly  because  hitherto  there  has  arisen  no 
strife-maker,"  she  said,  after  a  perceptible  interval. 

"  My  cousin  Helmer  has,  I  think,  less  control  of  his 
passions  than  has  Geysbert,"  said  Probity.  "  It  is  a 
great  thing  to  so  discipline  the  will  that  it  shall  not 
yield  before  the  onslaughts  of  temptation." 

Aveline  made  no  answer.  Possibly  she  found  her 
own  passions  not  completely  under  control  at  that 
moment. 

"Well,  did  you  find  your  kind  offices  necessary?" 
asked  madam,  as  the  two  entered  the  house. 

"  Yes  —  very  necessary,  I  think,"  said  Probity  slowly, 
while  Aveline,  who  supposed  the  question  to  refer  to 
the  splint  and  the  bandage  with  which  she  had  pro- 
vided herself,  replied  quietly : 

"  The  splint  came  in  useful." 

Madam  looked  keenly  from  one  to  the  other. 

"  Physicians  for  the  mind  and  the  body,"  she  said 
drily. 


238  FREE   TO   SERVE 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

«  '^  "]r  TELL,  what  is  the  judgment?  " 

%/^/  Probity  turned  her  face  suddenly  towards 
▼  T  her  aunt.  There  was  a  sHght  flush  on  it, 
caused  by  the  unexpected  question.  She  removed  her 
eyes  from  the  two  figures  disappearing  in  the  gathering 
darkness.  Probity  had  not  known  that  it  was  a  case  of 
double  study.  Ever  since  Geysbert  and  Aveline  ascended 
the  hill  she  had  been  watching  them  with  an  intent  ear- 
nestness that  meant  more  than  mere  curiosity.  Now  she 
knew  that  madam  had  been  watching  her. 

She  hesitated  a  moment  before  answering.  Then  her 
words  came  slowly.     She  was  weighing  each  one. 

"About  Aveline?  She  is  winsome  —  surely  —  and 
good  —  in  a  measure.  But  I  think,  dear  aunt  Wyntie, 
that  when  you  bought  her  for  your  maid,  you  bought 
much  trouble  along  with  her.  She  is  over-winsome, 
and  not  good  enough." 

"Where  will  you  find  a  better?"  Madam  spoke 
curtly. 

"  Truly  that  were  no  light  task." 

Probity  paused.  Her  eyes  had  gone  back  to  their 
watching.  The  two  had  turned  now,  and  were  coming 
back,  lingering  to  look  at  the  brightening  red  of  the  line 
of  fire  down  the  river,  ostensibly  the  reason  for  their 
evening  stroll.  Probity  had  been  generously  asked  to 
share  the  walk  to  the  point  where  a  better  view  of  the 
fire  was  to  be  obtained.  That  she  decided  to  stay  with 
madam  on  the  wide  piazza  was  not  altogether  due  to 
thoughtfulness  for  her  aunt  Wyntie. 

"  Looked  at  through  your  eyes,"  she  resumed  —  "  and 
perchance  through  other   eyes   than  yours  —  she  has 


FREE   TO    SERVE  239 

much,  you  would  possibly  say  everything,  to  recom- 
mend her.  Yet,  dear  aunt,  even  to  you  it  must  appear 
that  peace  is  better  than  strife." 

"  What  has  peace  to  do  with  it?  The  child  is  peace- 
able enough,  in  all  truth." 

"  And  peace-destroying  enough." 

Madam  sighed.     It  was  a  short,  impatient  sigh. 

**  That  is  no  fault  of  hers,"  she  said. 

"  May  I  speak  plainly,  aunt  Wyntie  ?  "  Probity  asked 
the  question  doubtfully. 

"  Surely,  child.  What  is  the  use  of  beating  about  the 
bush?" 

"Then,  dear  aunt,  is  it  not  fault  of  yours?" 

"  Scarcely,"  said  madam  shortly. 

"  Would  it  be  an  injustice  to  the  girl  if  you  should 
give  her,  or  allow  her  to  purchase,  her  freedom,  with  the 
understanding  that  she  seek  her  brother's  protection?" 

"Banish  the  sun  because  the  plants  turn  their  faces 
too  persistently  towards  it,  eh?  " 

Madam's  eyes  shone  a  little  in  the  growing  darkness. 

"  Better  so  than  that  the  plants  should  be  deformed 
by  overmuch  turning,"  said  Probity  gravely. 

"You  never  liked  Aveline,"  commented  madam. 

Probity  hesitated. 

"  Possibly  your  accusation  is  just,"  she  said.  "  Such 
attraction  as  hers,  mere  carnal  beauty,  does  not  of  itself 
appeal  to  me.  Yet  I  would  not  be  unfair  to  her.  With 
more  heart-training,  with  the  discipline  that  such  a  spirit 
as  hers  sadly  needs,  I  doubt  not  she  might  yet  become 
an  estimable  character,  and  her  external  beauty  be  the 
symbol  of  inward  loveliness." 

"  You  are  gracious." 

The  tone  was  sarcastic.  It  brought  a  deeper  tint  to 
Probity's  cheek.  She  had  thought  she  was  speaking  in 
moderation  and  fairness ;  she  was  certainly  trying  to  be 
just. 


240  FREE   TO    SERVE 

"  I  would  not  willingly  be  ?/«gracious,"  she  said  softly, 
"  If  my  words  seem  harsh,  it  is  because  of  the  weight  of 
earnestness  behind  them.  My  heart  is  sometimes  heavy 
by  reason  of  that  to  which  I  cannot  shut  my  eyes.  It 
is  six  weeks  since  I  came  to  this  house  of  mourning, 
and  not  one  has  passed  in  which  it  has  not  become  the 
house  of  strife." 

"  You  take  things  too  seriously,"  said  madam  ;  but  the 
words  struck  home. 

"  It  may  in  truth  be  so.  I  was  ever  of  a  serious  dis- 
position," began  Probity;  but  her  speech  was  cut  short 
by  the  appearance  of  a  small  negro  boy,  running  as  if 
life  depended  on  his  expedition. 

Geysbert  and  Aveline  were  at  that  moment  coming 
near  again.  The  boy  hesitated,  went  a  step  towards 
them,  and  then  changed  his  mind  and  mounted  the  piazza 
steps.  His  rapid  run  toned  down  to  a  solemn  walk  as 
he  approached  madam.  He  made  a  grotesque  attempt 
at  a  bow.  Tyte  was  always  very  ceremonious  to  Mars'r 
Helmer's  mother. 

"Well,  Tyte,  what  is  it?" 

"  Mars'r  Helmer  say  will  Missy  Av'line  and  Missy 
Pro'ty  go  down  to  de  landing?  He  get  a  boat  and  take 
dem  to  see  de  fire,  Mars'r  Helmer  say  it  very  fine 
to-night." 

"So!  And  have  you  no  invitation  for  me?"  asked 
madam, 

Tyte  shook  his  head  gravely. 

"  No,  mad'm.  Mars'r  Helmer  only  say  Missy  Av'line 
and  Missy  Pro'ty.  He  tell  me  bring  him  word  so  he 
know." 

Aveline  had  drawn  near. 

"  To  see  the  fire?"  she  asked. 

"  Yes,  missy,  Mars'r  Helmer  want  you  and  Missy 
Pro'ty," 

Tyte  was  overflowing  with  importance. 


FREE   TO   SERVE  241 

"  Tell  him  we  will  come  — that  is,  if —  " 

She  broke  off,  and  looked  at  Probity. 

Probity  did  not  speak.  She  was  searching  Geysbert's 
face. 

"  That  is,  if  you  so  desire,"  continued  Aveline,  in  a 
less  energetic  tone.  "  For  myself,  I  have  wished  to  see 
the  fire  more  closely  since  it  first  began  to  grow  big 
and  imposing." 

"  What  think  you,  cousin  Geysbert?  Will  the  sight 
be  worth  the  making  up  of  a  party  to  go  and  see  it?" 
asked  Probity. 

"  Possibly  you  might  think  so,"  said  her  cousin. 
"  From  the  water  it  is  often  grand." 

"Then  I  will  go,  provided  you  engage  to  do  the 
honours,"  she  replied. 

Long  after  their  voices  had  died  away  madam  sat 
watching  the  line  of  light  a  short  distance  down,  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Hudson.  The  new  owners  of  the  land 
had  borrowed  from  the  Indians  the  custom  of  setting 
the  underbrush  of  the  woods  on  fire  in  the  autumn. 
The  clearance  thus  effected  facilitated  hunting  and  made 
the  grass  grow  better  in  the  spring.  Madam's  eyes 
were  turned  towards  the  bright  glow,  but  her  thoughts 
were  not  with  them. 

"  I  was  a  foolish  old  woman  to  flatter  myself  that  I 
could  mend  matters,"  she  said  to  herself  at  last,  and 
again  there  was  that  impatient  sigh. 

Madam  was  just  now  in  the  position  of  one  who,  seek- 
ing to  guide  events,  finds  that  the  steeds  have  the  bit 
between  their  teeth.  She  had  imagined  her  hand  to  be 
very  effectually  on  the  reins  when  she  sent  that  letter  to 
Strivewell  Thaxter.  The  letter  had  not  failed  of  its  pur- 
pose, as  Probity's  presence  testified,  but  events  were 
none  the  less  refractory. 

"  Six  weeks  since  she  came,  is  it?  "  mused  madam. 
"  Six  weeks,  and  no  whit  the  forwarder  with  either  the 


242  FREE   TO    SERVE 

one  or  the  other.  It  is  not  the  fault  of  her  face,  for 
truly  'tis  but  a  question  of  taste  which  is  the  handsomer 
of  the  two." 

The  purpose  which  had  given  strength  to  madam's 
determination  to  get  well  was  to-day  as  firm  as  ever. 
To  carry  out  Pieter's  wishes,  and  see  Pieter's  lads  happy 
and  prosperous  according  to  his  ideas,  was  the  task  to 
the  accomplishment  of  which  she  set  herself  with  her 
usual  energetic  decision.  Everything  was  in  her  hands, 
for  Pieter  had  never  doubted  that  madam's  wisdom  was 
greater  than  his  own,  and  madam  herself  had  never  had 
the  smallest  doubt  of  that  wisdom  —  until  now.  Now, 
with  two  lads  and  two  lasses  on  her  hands,  she  was 
unwillingly  convinced  that  there  were  not  enough  lasses 
for  the  lads,  and  perchance,  also,  not  enough  lads  for  the 
lasses. 

"  She  is  a  good  maid,  and  Catharine's  own  girl.  I 
would  gladly  welcome  her  as  a  daughter,"  said  madam. 
"  If  Geysbert  had  only  eyes  to  see  —  but  he  is  strangely 
blind." 

She  rose  and  walked  the  length  of  the  piazza.  She 
did  not  notice  how  the  time  was  passing.  A  brighter 
light  shot  up  into  the  sky  from  the  neighbourhood  of 
the  river. 

"  The  tree-tops  are  catching  fire,"  said  madam.  "  The 
sight  will  be  worth  seeing." 

She  sat  down  again,  and  her  thoughts  wandered  to 
Pieter.  His  heart  had  been  set  on  seeing  Aveline  Geys- 
bert's  wife.  To  madam  it  would  have  been  greater  joy 
to  know  that  Helmer —  Well,  never  mind.  Pieter's 
desire  must  be  accomplished,  if  possible,  only  —  was  it 
possible?  Geysbert  should  have  every  facility  to  win 
Aveline  —  if  he  could  —  and  Helmer  might  yet  solace 
himself  with  Probity.  She  had  hoped  that  Geysbert's 
desire  would  change,  that  he  would  have  the  wish  of  his 
heart,  and  that  wish  be  —  Probity.     Now  she  was  wiser. 


■  FREE   TO    SERVE  243 

"  Surely  it  is  getting  late." 

Madam  passed  into  the  house  to  consult  Pieter's  big 
silver  watch,  Pieter  had  been  proud  of  that  watch,  and 
madam  made  it  the  standard  of  time  at  the  manor  house. 
Now,  as  she  approached  it,  it  lifted  up  its  voice,  as  if 
in  reproach,  and  solemnly  struck  ten  musical  strokes. 
From  the  holes  in  the  massive  silver  case,  purposely 
made  to  let  out  the  sound,  each  stroke  came  with  a 
note  of  warning. 

"  Ten  o'clock,  and  they  are  not  back  yet !  Nor  com- 
ing," added  madam,  as  she  hastily  returned  to  her  post 
of  observation,  and  bent  her  head  to  listen. 

Crickets  chirped,  and  frogs  croaked  with  exasper- 
ating loudness,  but  there  was  nothing  else  to  be  heard. 
The  world  of  the  manor  house  was  asleep,  but  Pieter's 
watch  was  awake  and  working.  Once  again  it  made  its 
voice  heard,  proclaiming  that  it  lacked  but  an  hour  of 
midnight.     Madam  was  becoming  alarmed. 

"  Surely  something  must  be  wrong,"  she  said  aloud, 
and  as  if  in  answer  came  the  words  :  "  All  right !  Here 
we  are." 

"  Helmer  !  What  can  you  have  been  thinking  about 
to  stay  out  so  late?"  she  called  sharply. 

Helmer  and  the  two  girls  were  coming  rapidly  tow- 
ards her. 

"  Thinking  of  ?  Being  caught  in  the  fire.  At  least 
that  was  the  fate  that  threatened  my  cousin,"  replied 
Helmer.  "  Here  she  is.  I  give  her  back  into  your 
hands  safe  and  sound.  It  is  not  Geysbert's  fault  that 
I  am  able  to  do  so." 

He  spoke  lightly,  but  there  was  an  undertone  that 
made  madam  ask  imperatively : 

"  What  do  you  mean?     Where  have  you  all  been?  " 

"  In  the  boat,  so  far  as  half  the  all  are  concerned," 
said  Helmer.  "  Aveline  and  I  were  wise,  and  kept  to 
safe  ground,  but  my  cousin  here  was  led  astray." 


244  FREE   TO    SERVE 

Probity  stepped  up  to  her  aunt,  and  the  light  from 
the  open  door  fell  on  her  face.     It  was  paler  than  usual. 

"  Dear  aunt,"  she  said,  "  the  story  would  be  more 
calmly  told  after  it  has  been  slept  over.  We  were  in 
some  danger,  but  we  were  mercifully  preserved.  Will 
you  give  permission  to  leave  all  remark  upon  the  occur- 
rence until  the  morning?" 

Her  voice  was  not  as  full  and  rich  as  usual.  There 
was  a  tired  ring  in  it  that  did  not  escape  Helmer's  notice. 

"  Poor  cousin,"  he  said,  "  it  was  unduly  hard  on  you. 
You  were  more  frightened  than  you  acknowledged. 
Yet,  if  you  will  be  so  brave,  you  must  not  be  surprised 
that  you  meet  with  little  sympathy." 

"  I  am  tired.  I  think  I  will  go  in — and  to  rest,"  said 
Probity.  "  Cousin  Helmer,  I  would  fain  ask  you  to  do 
the  same." 

He  was  silent  for  a  moment.  Then  he  held  out  his 
hand. 

"  You  may  cry  victory,  fair  preacher,"  he  said.  "  I 
will  keep  the  peace." 

"  I  take  it  kindly  of  you  that  you  give  the  promise  so 
readily,"  she  said. 

There  was  a  slight  gasp  at  the  end  of  her  words. 
Helmer's  right  hand  had  lightly  touched  her  left  as  he 
moved  away.  She  passed  quickly  into  the  house,  and 
upstairs  to  her  own  room. 

"Helmer!" 

In  all  his  life  Helmer  had  never  disregarded  that  tone. 
He  stopped  and  faced  round. 

"What  is  all  this  about?" 

"  Ask  Geysbert." 

"  I  asked  you." 

"Nothing  but  a  bit  of  foolhardiness  on  Geysbert's 
part.  He  could  best  explain  it  himself  I  have  prom- 
ised to  keep  the  peace."  He  broke  off  with  an  awkward 
laugh. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  245 

"  There  is  none  to  quarrel  with  here,"  said  madam 
coldly.     "  I  desire  an  explanation." 

"  It  is  easily  given.  We  ran  down  below  the  fire, 
and  sat  looking  at  it.  Then  Geysbert  wished  to  per- 
suade the  maidens  to  go  ashore.  He  declared  it  to  be 
safe,  and  promised  them  the  sight  of  many  fire-driven 
creatures  escaping  for  their  lives.  I  warned  him  the 
wind  was  turning  to  north.  If  I  had  held  my  peace, 
perchance  he  would  not  have  been  so  determined." 

Helmer  spoke  bitterly. 

"And  then?" 

"  Aveline  stayed,  but  Probity  decided  to  run  the  risk. 
And  she  ran  it.  A  sudden  rising  of  the  wind  sent  the 
flames  sweeping  round  the  bit  of  marshy  land  to  which 
they  had  made  their  way,  and  before  they  were  aware  of 
it,  they  were  almost  hemmed  in.  We  shouted,  and  put 
in  to  shore,  but  Probity  had  a  fall,  and  the  heat  of  the 
flames  was  intense  before  the  boat  was  reached." 

"  And  Geysbert?     What  excuse  did  he  give?" 

"  He  vouchsafed  none." 

"  That  will  do.  It  would  be  as  well  for  you  to  follow 
Probity's  advice." 

Madam's  voice  was  hard,  but  she  put  her  hand  on  her 
younger  son's  arm. 

He  stooped  and  kissed  her,  and  that  night  he  care- 
fully avoided  meeting  with  his  brother. 

"  Aunt  Wyntie  !  " 

Madam  was  passing  her  niece's  door.     It  stood  ajar. 

"What,  child!     Not  yet  abed?" 

"  I  desired  greatly  to  spare  you  anxiety,  but  my 
efforts  to  properly  arrange  this  bandage  have  been  with- 
out avail.     I  must  even  ask  your  help,"  said  Probity. 

"  Help?     You  are  not  hurt?  " 

"  Not  seriously.     I  had  a  fall  —  " 

"  Yes,  I  know." 

Probity  looked  at  her  inquiringly. 


246  FREE   TO    SERVE 

"  No.  There  has  been  nothing  of  what  you  call  strife. 
What  about  the  fall?" 

"  I  saved  myself  with  my  left  hand.  The  wrist  re- 
ceived a  twist." 

"And  you  said  nothing  about  it.     Foolish  child  !  " 

But  madam  bandaged  the  sprained  member  with  skil- 
ful fingers,  and  stayed  by  her  niece  until  she  saw  her 
safe  in  bed. 

"  There,  go  to  sleep,  and  leave  the  knots  of  life  to  be 
straightened  out  by  more  clever  fingers  than  yours," 
she  said  kindly. 

It  seemed  that  other  minds  than  Probity's  were  exer- 
cised about  those  same  knots.  It  was  only  the  next 
day  that  Madam  Feljer  stood  in  the  cool  dairy  watching 
the  filling  of  a  tub  with  butter.  To  all  appearance  she 
was  intent  on  the  butter-making,  yet  when  Ryseck 
Schredel  suddenly  lifted  her  head  and  began  to  speak, 
the  words  seemed  but  an  echo  of  madam's  own  thought. 

"  I  don't  call  myself  quite  a  fool,"  she  said,  "  and 
what  I  can't  do,  I  don't  reckon  any  other  body's  going 
to  do  either.  And  /  never  found  it  any  use  yet  to  offer 
a  child  a  bit  of  a  lighted  candle  when  it  was  crying  for 
the  moon.  It's  nothing  but  a  wicked  waste  of  the 
candle." 

Ryseck  allowed  her  eyes  to  wander  from  the  tub  of 
butter  over  which  she  was  pouring  the  fresh  pickle. 
Then  she  straightened  herself  and  faced  Madam  Feljer 
as  she  added : 

"  You  may  send  all  the  way  to  New  England,  or  to 
Old  Nederland,  or  anywhere  else,  to  get  the  finest  and 
best  of  candles,  but  the  lad  that  wants  the  moon  will 
take  nothing  less." 

Madam  looked  at  her  fixedly. 

"There  is  only  one  moon,"  she  said. 

"  To  be  sure.  And  while  it  shines  on  both,  neither 
the  one  nor  the  other  will  be  content  with  less." 


FREE   TO    SERVE  247 

She  bent  over  the  butter  again.  The  pickle  did  not 
yet  fill  the  tub.  For  Ryseck  to  take  her  eyes  off  a  tub 
of  butter  when  it  was  not  yet  properly  salted  and  pre- 
pared, was  so  unusual  a  circumstance  that  it  might  in 
itself  account  for  madam's  silent  gaze.  Ryseck  had 
not  come  all  the  way  from  Holland  for  the  express 
purpose  of  attending  to  the  Feljer  dairy,  to  have  the 
butter  anything  else  than  worthy  of  herself.  She  gave  no 
further  sign  that  any  subject  save  that  of  butter-making 
was  capable  of  attracting  her  attention.  It  was  not 
until  the  tub  was  filled  to  her  satisfaction,  and  carefully 
bestowed  in  the  cool  tile-lined  press  where  it  could  by 
no  possibility  come  in  contact  with  any  odour,  or — that 
greater  abomination  —  any  uncleanliness,  that  another 
word  was  spoken.     Then  madam  said  : 

"  The  moon  will  shine,  though  all  the  world  should 
cry  for  it." 

"  Not  on  every  spot  at  once,"  replied  Ryseck  sagely, 
and  her  inquisitorial  eyes  had  time  now  to  return 
madam's  scrutiny. 

"  I  was  foolish  enough  to  think  there  might  be  found 
another  moon,"  said  madam,  with  a  smile  that  was  not 
without  some  bitterness. 

Ryseck  shook  her  head. 

"  'Tis  not  in  Mistress  Probity  that  the  fault  is  to  be 
found,"  she  said.  "  Eyes  that  are  dazzled  with  over- 
much light  are  not  to  be  blamed  if  they  fail  to  see 
clearly.  Neither  the  one  nor  the  other  has  an  eye  to 
spy  out  her  virtues.  If  she  had  come  first,  they  might 
have  been  fighting  for  her  now,  though,  to  be  sure,  they 
are  neither  of  them  fools." 

Which  latter  statement  rather  clearly  indicated  that 
Ryseck's  own  eyes  were  a  little  affected  in  the  matter  of 
partial  vision. 

Madam  looked  at  her  intently. 

"  Better  be  content  with  butter-moulding,  and  leave 


248  FREE   TO    SERVE 

events  to  mould  themselves,  or  there  may  perchance  be 
two  foolish  women  instead  of  one,"  she  said. 

But  when,  on  that  same  day,  there  seemed  to  come 
an  opportunity  to  do  a  little  moulding  on  her  own 
account,  madam  did  not  follow  out  her  own  advice. 

Probity  was  set  aside  from  active  duty  to-day. 
Madam  insisted  on  it,  and  Aveline,  with  a  little  com- 
punction for  her  lively  partisanship  of  the  night  before, 
was  very  tender  and  attentive  to  her.  Her  ministra- 
tions lasted  until  just  before  the  noonday  meal,  and 
then  she  was  surely  to  be  excused  if  the  sprained  wrist 
was  only  remembered  spasmodically,  and  with  little 
penitent  efforts  to  atone  for  the  forgetfulness.  For  with 
Fulke  present,  watching  his  sister's  movements,  and 
winning  for  himself  a  nod  or  two  of  approbation  from 
madam,  as  he  discoursed  on  his  plans,  and  incidentally 
gave  proof  of  his  successes,  Aveline's  attention  was 
necessarily  much  divided. 

Fulke's  last  winter's  experiment  of  trading  to  the 
West  Indies  was  to  be  repeated,  and  he  was  on  his  way 
to  take  practical  charge  of  the  same  sloop,  her  skipper 
being  already  in  New  York  awaiting  his  arrival.  The 
yacht  in  which  he  had  descended  the  river  was  loaded 
with  Albany  flour,  than  which  there  was  no  better  — 
and  scarce  as  good  —  to  be  found  in  the  province,  and 
a  few  horses  had  been  added  as  a  further  venture. 

The  young  man  was  the  Fulke  of  London  days  con- 
siderably modified.  The  dash  which  had  made  him 
one  with  some  of  the  most  reckless  youths  of  the  city, 
was  still  clearly  discernible.  In  truth,  it  was  this  dash 
—  bordering  on  recklessness  —  which  had  first  attracted 
Roger  Bennet's  attention. 

"  The  lad  is  as  capable  of  putting  himself  into  the 
accomplishing  of  a  dangerous  bit  of  business,  as  of 
putting  his  soul  into  the  turn  of  a  bow  or  the  hang  of  a 
rag  of  lace,"  he  had  decided. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  249 

At  the  present  time  Roger  was  taking  to  himself  no 
small  amount  of  credit  for  discernment.  His  partner 
was  making  money  for  both,  and  was  justifying  Roger's 
action  in  bringing  him  over  the  sea. 

Madam  was  benevolent  —  decidedly  so.  The  lad 
was  prospering,  and  prosperity  was  a  sign  of  wit  and 
worth.  She  welcomed  him  cordially,  and  took  con- 
siderable interest  in  the  news  he  brought  from  Albany. 

"  And  my  Lord  Cornbury?  You  have,  I  think,  had 
the  good  gentleman  in  Albany  this  summer,"  she 
said. 

"  Yes,  and  he  has  shown  much  dignity  and  discretion. 
I  have  not  heard  that  he  has  once  personated  his  illus- 
trious cousin.  Queen  Anne,  or  done  aught  that  could 
detract  from  an  honourable  name,"  said  Fulke.  "  He 
was  good  enough  to  show  me  some  kindness,  and  to 
give  me  one  or  two  small  commissions  to  execute  for 
him  in  his  dealing  with  the  Indians  whom  he  came  to 
meet." 

"Ah,  a  great  conference,  I  doubt  not,"  replied  madam, 
"  and  the  good  governor  has  surely  done  much  to  keep 
the  natives  in  their  duty  and  allegiance  to  their  sover- 
eign." 

"  Oh,  the  covenant  chain  is  exceptionally  bright  just 
at  present,"  responded  Fulke,  laughing.  "  It  will  not 
grow  rusty  so  long  as  the  powder  and  knives  and  rum 
of  the  governor's  present  are  on  hand  to  brighten  it. 
When  they  are  done  with,  it  may  suddenly  become 
dimmed." 

"  Yes,  it  requires  much  wisdom  to  keep  them  from 
going  over  to  our  French  enemies,"  said  madam.  "  Yet 
they  of  the  Five  Nations  have  been  to  us  a  wall  against 
the  foe." 

"  Far  be  it  from  me  to  quarrel  with  my  bread  and 
butter,"  said  Fulke,  with  mock  earnestness.  "  Truly 
they   are   not  altogether   a   foolish    people.     At   times 


250  FREE   TO    SERVE 

their  actions  show  them  to  be  veritable  courtiers.  At 
this  very  conference  the  sachems  of  these  nations 
honoured  his  Excellency  by  appearing  before  his  lodg- 
ing and  singing  a  mournful  song  which  they  had  made 
upon  the  death  of  his  late  Majesty,  King  William  the 
Third,  of  blessed  memory." 

"Did  they  so?"  said  madam.  "It  was  well  meant. 
Such  a  spirit  of  loyalty  must  have  made  the  conference 
an  easier  matter  to  my  Lord  Cornbury." 

"  Aye,  but  if  these  wily  natives  can  flatter,  they  can 
speak  plainly  too,"  returned  Fulke.  "  The  governor 
had  an  opportunity  of  judging  of  the  astuteness  of  the 
Indian  mind  when  Onuchenanorum,  a  sachem  of  the 
Maquase,  stood  up  and  solemnly  informed  his  Excel- 
lency that  one  of  the  reasons  why  so  many  of  their 
brethren  traded  with  Canada  was  that  the  Albany 
weights,  with  which  we  weigh  the  bear  and  other  skins, 
are  too  heavy  withal,  and  that  they  did  not  consider 
themselves  fairly  treated  by  the  traders.  He  further 
affirmed  that  the  best  way  to  draw  their  Indians  back 
again  from  Canada  was  to  let  the  goods  be  cheaper,  a 
means  of  attracting  them  which  would  doubtless  prove 
effective," 

"  The  good  man  was  in  earnest  about  the  cheapening 
of  the  goods,"  commented  madam.  "  Unquestionably 
the  subject  lay  near  his  heart." 

"  That  did  it,"  replied  Fulke,  "  for  it  went  so  far  as 
to  affect  his  religious  views.  He  declared  the  willing- 
ness of  his  people  to  consult  about  having  ministers  in 
their  castles,  to  instruct  them,  in  the  place  of  the  French 
priests.  But  this  too  was  conditional  on  the  cheapness  of 
the  goods,  for  when  the  goods  were  cheaper  Onuchenano- 
rum argued  that  the  Indian  could  afford  to  buy  a  good 
honest  coat  to  go  to  church  withal,  for  it  would  be 
scandalous  to  come  to  church  with  a  bear-skin  on  his 
back." 


FREE   TO    SERVE  251 

"  Not  a  bad  argument  for  the  red  man,"  said  madam, 
laughing. 

«  "  Their  sachems  are  surely  not  without  worldly  wis- 
dom," said  Fulke,  "  or  one  of  them  would  not  have 
gravely  proposed  to  my  Lord  Cornbury  that  his  gener- 
ous gift  of  fifty  kegs  of  rum  should  be  bestowed  in  some 
safe  place  until  the  conference  was  over,  since  they 
were  but  now  just  begun,  and  if  their  people  should  fall 
a-drinking  they  would  be  unfit  for  business.  The  pro- 
posal was  worthy  of  a  statesman." 
"Truly.  And  was  it  listened  to?  " 
"  It  was.  Mr,  Livingston's  cellar  was  appointed  as 
the  place  of  custody  for  this  dangerous  gift.  Yet  did 
not  the  conference  end  without  disaster.  A  sachem 
of  the  River  Indians  perished  at  the  hands  of  those 
dastardly  negroes,  and  four  black  necks  were  sentenced 
to  wear  the  halter." 
Madam  nodded. 

"  'Tis  right  that  the  Indian    should    learn    that    our 
nation  values  his  life,"  she  said.     "  It  was  well  that  the 
murderers  were  executed." 
Aveline  shuddered. 

"  Poor  creatures,"  she  said.  "  Possibly  they  knew 
but  little  more  than  the  red  men  themselves." 

"  The  halter  would  teach  them,"  replied  Fulke 
lightly. 

"  Truly,  Justice  is  a  hard  teacher,"  said  Probity  slowly, 
"  yet  the  transgressor  must  needs  learn  her  lessons." 

"  In  this  case  he  did  not  so  learn.  At  least  only  one 
of  the  transgressors  came  under  the  rod,"  said  Fulke, 
turning  to  Probity.  "  Mercy  stepped  in,  and  in  no  less 
strange  a  guise  than  an  Indian  sachem.  The  River 
Indians  declared  themselves  satisfied  that  our  people 
had  done  all  in  their  power  for  their  wounded  brother, 
even  going  so  far  as  to  be  willing  to  avenge  his  death, 
but  they  desired  no  more  lives    to    be   lost,  and  they 


252  FREE   TO    SERVE 

pleaded  that  death  should  not  overtake  the  mur- 
derers." 

"And  my  Lord  Cornbury?  What  answer  did  he 
make  to  that?  "  demanded  madam. 

"  The  answer  of  clapping  the  halter  about  the  neck 
of  the  ringleader,  and  reserving  the  rest  for  the  royal 
judgment,"  replied  Fulke.  "  He  mingled  stern  justice 
with  mercy,  and  duly  impressed  the  savage  mind  there- 
with, and  further  healed  the  wounded  spirits  of  the 
Indians  by  promising  that  the  friends  of  the  murdered 
man  should  be  compensated  for  their  loss  according  to 
Indian  usage.  Oh,  the  new  governor  is  a  sufficiently 
discreet  man,  and  well  instructed  in  his  dealings  with 
the  natives." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it.  I  thought  him  a  kindly  gentle- 
man and  a  wise  governor  when  we  met  him  in  New 
York,"   replied  madam. 

And  then  she  sighed,  and  relapsed  into  silence,  and 
the  young  men  talked  together  of  Fulke's  movements. 

"  You're  a  lucky  fellow,"  remarked  Helmer.  "  No 
droning  in  the  country  for  you  this  winter,  but  change 
of  scene  and  fresh  adventures  all  the  time." 

"  Better  take  a  trip  with  me,"  suggested  Fulke. 

"Not  I.  I'm  a  drone  by  nature.  The  manor  house 
and  the  snow  suit  me,"  replied  Helmer,  laughing. 

Yet  when  Fulke's  yacht  left  the  landing-place  on  the 
following  morning,  Helmer  was  on  board,  having  turned 
his  back  on  the  manor  house  for  a  period  of  three 
months.  It  came  about  as  a  result  of  madam's  mould- 
ing, and  was  intended  to  bring  that  peace  on  behalf 
of  which  Probity's  mind  was  exercised. 

There  was  at  the  back  of  the  manor  house  a  room 
opening  into  a  narrow  passage.  The  tenants  knew  it 
well,  for  here  Pieter  Feljer  first,  and  now  madam  her- 
self, transacted  all  business  connected  with  the  estate. 
It  was  when  passing  the  door  of  this  room  that  Helmer 


FREE   TO    SERVE  253 

heard  his  mother's  voice  calling  him,  and  turned  in. 
Then  it  was  that  madam  did  an  unheard-of  thing,  and 
one  that  few  who  knew  her  would  have  given  her  credit 
for.  She  frankly  owned  herself  unequal  to  the  occa- 
sion that  had  arisen,  and  appealed  to  her  son  for  help. 
There  was  a  long  and  hot  argument,  but  madam  came 
off  the  victor.  And  what  was  more,  the  vanquished  was 
not  altogether  dissatisfied. 

'*  The  present  position  is  anything  but  satisfactory," 
he  said.  "  I  will  go,  and  when  Yorke  booms  with  New 
Year's  guns,  I  will  start  for  home.  And  then  I  will 
stand  aside  for  no  one." 

"  You  will  not  need  to  stand  aside.  Geysbert  shall 
understand  that  he  has  three  months  in  which  to  win 
or  lose.     After  that  the  field  is  open." 

It  was  not  all  magnanimity  that  prompted  Helmer 
to  leave  the  manor  house  and  Aveline  at  this  junc- 
ture. He  thought  he  was  so  far  sure  of  his  ground 
that  he  had  less  to  fear  from  going  than  from  stay- 
ing. Aveline  might  or  might  not  love  him,  but  she 
did  not  love  Geysbert.  Madam  did  not  deny  the 
assertion. 

"  Let  him  find  it  out  his  own  way,"  she  said.  "  He 
will  take  it  less  hard  when  you  are  out  of  sight.  He  is 
the  elder,  and  in  a  manner  he  is  entitled  to  the  first 
chance.  So  your  father  thought.  Let  him  have  it. 
Afterwards,  should  he  find  that  the  prize  is  not  for  him, 
he  cannot  blame  you.  Your  father's  sons  cannot  afford 
to  quarrel,  even  for  Aveline." 

•'But  you  will  not  attempt  to  coerce  her?  She  is 
to  be  allowed  fair  play?" 

Helmer  spoke  hastily.  It  was  a  contingency  that 
had   not  occurred  to  him  before. 

''  It  is  full  time  you  left  home,  when  it  comes  to 
doubting  my  honour,"  said  madam.  "  Neither  of  my 
sons  is  the  lad  his  father  knew.    Truly,  love  is  a  strange 


254  FREE   TO   SERVE 

thing,  since  it  brings  enough  hatred  in  its  train  to  set  a 
whole  household  by  the  ears." 

And  that  was  her  last  word  on  the  subject. 

Helmer  could  not  have  sworn  that  he  was  not  glad 
to  bring  matters  to  a  crisis.  He  would  have  spoken  to 
Aveline  before,  but  it  seemed  no  time  for  wooing. 
Then,  when  Geysbert's  animosity  showed  itself  vigor- 
ously, he  feared  to  distress  his  mother  by  the  outburst 
that  must  follow  any  avowal  on  his  part.  He  waited 
impatiently,  chafing  at  the  restraint.  It  would  be  better 
to  go  anywhere  than  to  be  always  living  over  a  mine 
that  might  any  day  explode.  He  did  not  fear  Geysbert's 
influence  —  much.  But  he  would  have  been  glad  if  the 
three  months'  probation  had  been  over. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  255 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

WINTER  was  belated,  or  the  fifteenth  of  Decem- 
ber would  never  have  found  the  Hudson  open, 
and  the  ground  unblanketed.  And  something 
beside  winter  was  belated,  Geysbert  had  felt  it  for  a 
long  time — the  tardiness  of  his  wooing  of  Aveline,  It 
surely  was  not  his  fault.  His  ardour  was  strong  enough 
to  overcome  any  obstacle  but  one  —  and  that  a  girl's 
will. 

Geysbert  had  been  very  amiable  for  the  past  ten  weeks, 
and  very  gay.  Probity  had  felt  the  charm  of  his  manner, 
and  yielded  herself  to  it.  Since  Helmer's  departure 
there  had  been  no  more  "  strife  "  at  the  manor  house. 
Madam  watched  events,  and  sighed  once  or  twice  as  she 
realized  that  the  departure  of  her  younger  son  had 
brought  peace.  She  had  expected  it,  and  yet —  it  did 
not  quite  please  her. 

Geysbert  was  at  his  very  best  during  those  weeks. 
Madam  could  see  no  cause  for  complaint,  and  she  did 
not  complain.  But  she  looked  more  than  a  little 
anxiously  for  the  crisis.  It  would  have  come  sooner, 
had  not  Aveline  scented  danger.  She  was  shy  as  a 
wild  bird,  and  as  hard  to  catch,  in  those  days.  She  had 
never  been  so  gentle  to  madam  as  now,  nor  so  quiet 
and  sisterly  to  Geysbert,  but  the  impossibility  of  getting 
near  her  drove  him  almost  frantic.  Probity,  too,  found 
her  attentive.  She  insisted  on  Probity's  company  when- 
ever the  same  was  practicable,  and  almost  succeeded  in 
making  Geysbert  hate  his  cousin. 

Probity  had  not  learned  to  approve  of  Aveline.  Per- 
haps she  could  have  found  it  in  her  heart  to  approve  of 
her  more  had  Geysbert  approved  of  her  less.     But  she 


256  FREE   TO    SERVE 

saw  no  good  ground  for  censure,  though  she  watched 
her  with  far-seeing  eyes. 

The  crisis  might  have  been  yet  further  delayed  if 
madam  herself  had  not  come  to  the  rescue.  She  sent 
Avehne  on  a  commission  to  a  house  some  two  miles  off, 
and  detailed  Geysbert  to  see  to  her  safety.  And  she 
expressly  provided  for  the  employment  of  Probity 
within  doors  on  that  clear  December  day.  When  the 
two  returned,  the  crisis  had  come,  and  passed.  Madam 
knew  it  by  the  nervous,  half-penitent  air  with  which 
Aveline  passed  Geysbert  and  ran  up  the  steps,  and  by 
her  eagerness  to  get  away  to  her  own  room.  She  did 
not  succeed  in  escaping.  Madam  called  her  into  the 
big  fire-lighted  living  room,  and  over  to  herself. 

"  You  should  have  something  to  tell  me,  child,"  she 
said.     "  Is  it  not  so?  " 

"  Madam,  I  think  not,"  replied  Aveline,  with  a  little 
flash  of  pride.  "  Geysbert  had  something  to  tell  me, 
but  we  should  both  have  been  happier  had  it  been  left 
untold." 

"  Are  you  sure  of  that,  child  ?  " 

"  Quite  sure,  madam." 

"  There  have  been  foolish  maidens  who  have  not 
known  their  own  minds,  and  who  have  learned  to  mourn 
for  that  which  their  hand  turned  away,"  said  madam. 
"  You  would  do  well  to  have  a  care  lest  you  become  one 
of  their  number." 

Aveline  made  no  answer. 

"Hearts  are  not  offered  every  day,"  continued  the 
lady  reproachfully. 

Then  Aveline's  calmness  gave  way,  and  she  fell  on 
her  knees  by  madam's  side,  and  buried  her  face  in 
her  lap. 

"  Madam,  I  am  sorry.  But  I  could  not  take  that 
which  Geysbert  offered,  and  I  could  not  give  that  which 
he  desired  to  take,"  she  whispered.    "  Why  does  he  not 


FREE   TO   SERVE  257 

see  that  —  that  —  there  is  another  who  could  give  him 
what  I  —  I  have  —  " 

"  Already  bestowed.  There,  child,  dry  your  eyes, 
and  let  your  mind  be  at  peace.  I  am  satisfied.  I  ask 
not  for  my  son  Geysbert  an  empty  heart.  He  him- 
self will  yet  learn  that  it  would  be  a  poor  gift." 

She  put  her  hand  tenderly  on  the  girl's  head, 

"Be  patient,  my  daughter,"  she  said,  "  It  is  a  virtue 
more  needed  than  any  other,  and  never  more  needed 
than  now." 

Madam  sighed,  and  the  firelight  danced,  and  the 
minutes  passed. 

"  There,  child,  go  upstairs  and  take  off  those  heavy 
wraps,"  said  madam  at  last,  in  a  different  tone,  "  and 
leave  the  troubles  behind  you.  They'll  right  themselves 
none  the  better  for  fretting  over  them." 


258  FREE  TO   SERVE 


CHAPTER   XXV 

THE  sun,  which  on  that  December  day  shone  on 
Aveline  and  Geysbert  as  they  neared  the  manor 
house,  was  doing  his  best  to  dazzle  the  eyes  of 
two  men  who  paced  the  deck  of  a  vessel  headed  for 
land.  The  coast  of  Long  Island  lay  in  the  distance, 
and  there  was  the  bustle  of  preparation  on  board.  Now 
and  again  the  two  men  lifted  their  faces  to  the  sharp 
December  air,  and  one,  the  younger  of  the  two,  drew 
in  the  breath  of  it  as  if  he  could  not  have  too  much. 

"  I'm  glad  as  a  homesick  child  to  be  back  again,"  he 
said.  "  Warmer  climes  are  good  enough  in  their  way, 
but  New  Nederland  for  me,  now  and  always." 

The  other  laughed. 

"  You  have  not  been  away  long  enough  to  cure  you 
of  your  provincial  proclivities,"  he  said.  "  Better  con- 
tinue the  experience  by  returning  with  me." 

"  Not  I.  I  stay  in  Yorke  until  the  New  Year,  join  in 
Christmas  festivities,  eat  New  Year's  cookies,  and  such 
like,  and  then  back  to  the  manor  house." 

"  You  are  the  same  plodding  old  Helmer  you  used  to 
be  when  I  spent  those  glorious  boyish  days  with  you 
and  Geysbert,"  said  the  other.  "  Well,  every  man  to 
his  taste,  but  give  me  a  life  that  has  in  it  some  spice  of 
adventure." 

"  You  have  more  than  the  spice  here,"  replied  Hel- 
mer gravely.  "  Do  you  intend  in  all  soberness  to  run 
in  this  cargo  to-night?" 

"Do  I  intend?  I  should  say  I  do,"  responded  his 
friend  gaily.  "  Have  you  any  idea  how  many  thousand 
pounds'  worth  of  prohibited  goods  —  good  Dutch  manu- 
factures, all  of  them  —  are  under  your  feet?  " 


FREE   TO    SERVE  259 

"  No,  and  don't  want  to  have,"  replied  Helmer. 
♦'  Better  take  them  back  where  they  came  from." 

"  You  have  no  head  for  business,  and  no  burning 
sense  of  injustice  urging  you  forward,"  was  the  reply. 
"  How  is  commerce  to  go  on,  I  pray  you,  if  Dutch- 
men may  not  deal  in  Holland,  and  every  pound's  worth 
of  continental  produce  must  first  be  landed  in  England, 
that  the  Englishman  may  secure  his  picking  before  our 
merchants  so  much  as  look  at  the  goods?  Taxes,  and 
duties,  and  dues  —  a  merchant  hears  of  nothing  else. 
We,  who  brave  something  worse  than  the  fury  of  the 
seas,  are  righters  of  the  public  wrongs,  martyrs  to  the 
cause  of  the  people.  Our  countrymen  need  Dutch 
goods,  and  East  India  goods,  and  our  merchants  must 
have  them  at  prices  that  will  allowof  their  being  bought 
by  the  honest  men  and  women  of  the  province.  What 
would  you  have?  He  who  supplies  the  public  need  is 
a  public  benefactor." 

Helmer  shook  his  head. 

"There  are  many  who  think  with  you,"  he  said, 
"  and  few  who  would  be  hard  on  your  trade ;  but  for 
myself,  I  would  even  rather  pay  the  dues  or  go  without 
the  goods." 

His  friend  laughed. 

"  You  are  straight-laced  enough  for  a  Puritan  and 
Quaker  combined,"  he  said.  "To-night  we  will  con- 
vert you  to  our  side.  The  man  who  can  resist  the  soul- 
stirring  excitement  of  running  a  cargo  ashore  is  not  of 
your  age  or  build,  TU  wager." 

He  walked  briskly  away.  There  were  many  orders 
to  be  given,  and  much  preparation  to  be  made  before 
nightfall. 

Helmer  stood  alone,  looking  towards  the  shore.  His 
heart  was  light.  In  two  more  weeks  the  Dutch  resi- 
dents of  New  York  would  resort  to  their  favourite  pas- 
time of  firing  guns  on  New  Year's  day.     That  was  to 


26o  FREE   TO    SERVE 

be  the  signal  that  Helmer's"  probation  was  ended. 
Then,  if  the  river  were  open,  he  would  go  up  the 
Hudson,  and  if  not,  he  would  follow  an  Indian  trail, 
with  a  native  for  a  guide,  and  in  due  time  reach  home 
—  and  Aveline. 

It  was  of  Aveline  he  was  thinking  when  the  sun  shone 
in  his  eyes  and  made  them  misty.  It  was  mainly  be- 
cause he  could  not  bear  to  stay  away  one  day  longer 
than  the  prescribed  time,  that  Helmer  had  shipped  with 
an  old  friend,  Marcelis  Wendell,  now  engaged  in  the 
carrying  trade  between  Surinam  and  New  York. 

The  "  Liberty  "  was  a  large  vessel  for  the  times.  She 
carried  onions,  flaxseed,  peas,  and  flour,  and  sometimes 
oysters  and  lobsters,  from  New  York,  and  returned  to 
that  port  in  ballast.  What  she  carried  between  the  time 
when  she  left  Surinam,  and  the  time  when  she  reached 
her  anchorage  at  the  port  of  New  York,  was  another 
matter.  The  owners  of  certain  warehouses  in  convenient 
situations  upon  the  coast  of  Long  Island  were  in  the 
habit  of  looking  out  for  the  "  Liberty,"  and  so  glad  were 
they  to  welcome  her,  that  many  a  dark  night  their  boats 
danced  over  the  waves  to  meet  her,  and  greet  her,  and 
help  lighten  her.  At  a  time  when  no  European  goods 
could  be  imported  otherwise  than  through  England,  and 
when  Dutch  and  fine  East  India  manufactures  were  in 
special  demand,  it  was  little  wonder  that  the  "  Liberty" 
found  ways  and  means  of  carrying  something  more  re- 
munerative than  ballast  during  the  greater  part  of  her 
homeward  journey,  though  she  sailed  into  the  port  of 
New  York  in  all  the  innocence  of  a  vessel  guiltless  of 
return  cargo.  Transfers  of  goods  in  the  open  sea,  or 
upon  some  convenient  island,  were  transactions  not 
unheard  of,  and  in  any  case  the  "  Liberty  "  had  to-day  a 
full  and  valuable  cargo,  no  part  of  which  was  destined 
to  enter  the  port  of  New  York. 

The  night  was  clear  and  moonless,  and  the  wind  fa- 


FREE   TO   SERVE  261 

vourable,  and  good-humour  and  joking  prevailed  aboard 
the  "  Liberty  "  as  she  bore  down  on  the  shore. 

"We've  a  full  night's  work  before  us,"  said  Marcelis, 
as  he  passed  Helmer,  "  and  another  on  top  of  that,  unless 
we  get  more  help  than  usual." 

"You  put  out  to  sea  before  daylight?"  asked 
Helmer. 

"  Surely.  We  must  run  out  of  the  reach  of  danger. 
The  loss  of  ship  and  cargo  is  an  alternative  that  may 
well  incite  to  caution." 

It  was  only  in  accordance  with  human  nature  that  the 
manifest  risk  in  the  undertaking  should  warm  every 
sailor's  blood,  and  set  him  to  carrying  out  orders  with 
a  dash  and  promptitude  not  seen  on  ordinary  occasions. 
Two  boats  were  early  loaded,  in  one  of  which  Helmer 
took  an  oar.  He  was  bent  on  seeing  the  development 
of  this  characteristic  bit  of  trade. 

"  Bear  away,"  commanded  Marcelis.  "  There  is  no 
time  to  lose.  Our  friends  will  soon  be  coming  to  our 
aid,  but  it  is  not  necessary  to  wait  for  them.  Every 
moment  is  precious." 

He  himself  stayed  for  the  present  on  board,  superin- 
tending the  removal  of  the  cargo.  Every  man  was 
armed,  and  the  boats  kept  well  together.  No  word  was 
spoken.  Speech  was  an  unnecessary  hindrance.  Pres- 
ently a  sound  was  heard  in  the  distance. 

"  Yonder  comes  Jansen  to  the  rescue,"  said  one  of 
the  sailors.     "  The  old  man  is  slow  to-night." 

They  rowed  silently.  The  on-coming  boat  approached, 
and  a  voice  was  heard  giving  a  command. 

"  That's  not  old  Jansen's  grunt,"  burst  out  one  of  the 
men. 

"  Silence  !  "  whispered  the  mate,  the  suppressed  growl 
putting  every  one  on  the  alert. 

The  sound  of  oars  came  nearer,  and  a  dark  spot 
showed  where  the  boat  rode  the  waves. 


262  FREE   TO   SERVE 

"  No  friend  that!"  declared  the  mate  under  his 
breath,  and  at  the  same  moment  a  figure  arose  in  the 
advancing  boat. 

*'  In  the  name  of  the  queen,  stop  where  you  are  !  " 

For  a  moment  Helmer  listened  to  the  voice,  bewil- 
dered.    Then  — 

"  Myndert  Hooghland  !  "  he  whispered.  "  'Tis  the 
custom  officer's  boat." 

"  Aye,  aye,"  responded  the  mate,  in  the  same  low 
tone.  Then  aloud  :  "  The  sea  is  wide ;  we  dispute  not 
your  passing." 

"  Aye,  but  I  dispute  yours.  Dip  an  oar  at  your 
■peril !  "  shouted  Myndert,  as  the  boat  drew  near. 

"  Make  ready  for  action  !  "  commanded  the  mate,  and 
the  men's  eyes  gleamed  in  the  darkness. 

"What  have  you  on  board?"  demanded  the  officer, 
or  officer's  assistant,  for  this  was  the  position  at  present 
occupied  by  Myndert  Hooghland. 

"  Two  boat-loads  of  armed  men.  Have  you  aught  to 
say  against  the  importation  of  such?  " 

The  boats  were  alongside  now.  Myndert  ignored  the 
question. 

"  You  carry  merchandise,"  he  said,  peering  down  into 
the  nearest  boat.  "  It  is  against  the  Laws  of  Trade  to 
land  any  otherwhere  than  in  the  port  of  New  York.  In 
the  name  of  the  queen  I  declare  your  goods  and  your 
vessel,  together  with  these  boats,  confiscated,  and  call 
upon  you  to  surrender." 

"You  mistake.  Our  proceedings  are  regular  —  very 
regular,"  replied  the  mate  sarcastically. 

"Then  why  this  night  journey?  Where  are  your 
cocquets?  " 

"Where  are  my  cocquets?  Here  they  are,  my  fine 
fellow.     See  if  they  suit  you." 

He  gave  the  signal,  and  the  sharp  crack  of  guns 
sounded  over  the  water.     No  one  was  wounded,  for  the 


FREE   TO   SERVE  263 

demonstration    was    but  to  show  the   strength   of  the 
expedition. 

Myndert  hesitated.  He  had  hoped  to  meet  but  one 
boat  at  a  time,  and  had  trusted  that  the  capture  of  the 
first  boat  would  overawe  the  rest  of  the  ship's  crew. 
He  had  been  sent  here  to  watch  the  coast,  and  though 
in  this  case  the  attempt  was  foolhardy,  he  thought  to  do 
more  than  watch.  He  was  ignorant  of  the  name  or  rank 
of  the  vessel  to  which  the  boats  belonged,  and  at  first 
thought  them  to  pertain  to  one  of  the  shallops  that 
plied  in  and  out  of  the  bays,  and  were  helpful  enough 
in  running  merchandise  across  to  the  mainland.  The 
game  he  had  tackled  was  too  large  for  his  strength. 
Therefore  he  hesitated. 

"Made  a  little  blunder,  my  friend,  haven't  you?" 
demanded  the  mate.  "  There's  no  harm  done,  how- 
ever. We're  friendly  chaps  enough.  You've  but  to 
put  yourselves  under  our  protection,  and  we'll  take 
good  care  of  you,  and  though  we  may  find  it  necessary 
to  make  blind  men  of  you  for  a  few  hours,  we  will  hurt 
not  a  hair  of  your  heads.     What  say  you  ?  " 

Myndert  wavered,  but  at  that  moment  there  was  a 
change  of  position,  which  gave  him  a  better  view  of  the 
mate's  boat,  and  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  figure  he  had 
not  before  seen,  a  young  man,  tall  and  commanding. 

"  Helmer  Feljer  !  "  he  ejaculated.  "  By  all  that's  evil, 
I've  got  you  now  !  " 

He  drew  his  sword  and  lurched  forward.  For  the 
next  few  moments  there  was  a  clashing  of  weapons, 
and  shouts  enough  to  warn  Marcelis  that  something 
was  wrong. 

The  fight  was  short.  It  was  over  as  suddenly  as  it 
began.  When  Myndert  cried  surrender  there  was  but 
one  of  his  crew  that  had  not  been  disarmed,  a  big  hulk- 
ing negro  who  had  escaped  capture  by  keeping  well 
behind  his  leader.     Now,  as  Myndert  held    his  sword 


264  FREE   TO    SERVE 

aloft,  preparatory  to  passing  it  over  to  his  captors,  the 
black  form  crouched  as  if  to  hide  itself  from  view.  None 
was  at  liberty  to  note  the  gleam  of  hatred  in  the  man's 
eyes,  or  the  glitter  of  the  teeth  between  his  parted  lips. 
The  attitude  was  that  of  a  wild  beast  crouched  for  a 
spring. 

"  All  right.  Sorry  to  have  to  appear  anything  but 
polite,"  said  the  mate,  with  something  like  a  sneer,  "  but 
necessity  knows  no  law.  A  rope  there,  some  of  you 
fellows.     Free  hands  are  dangerous." 

Helmer  stooped  to  disentangle  a  rope  near  his  feet. 
It  was  caught  under  some  of  the  merchandise. 

"Cut  it!  Cut  it !  "  commanded  the  mate.  "We've 
no  time  to  lose." 

Helmer's  knife  was  in  his  hand  almost  before  the 
words  were  spoken.  It  was  a  big  strong  knife,  and  one 
the  young  man  always  carried.  To  draw  the  rope  up 
preparatory  to  cutting  it  he  leant  over  the  side  of  the 
boat,  the  movement  bringing  him  close  to  and  almost 
behind  Myndert,  whose  hands  were  in  the  mate's  grasp. 
At  that  moment  there  was  a  surging  movement,  by  what 
prompted  nobody  could  explain.  Myndert  was  pushed 
almost  off  his  feet,  and  the  mate's  arm  struck  Helmer's 
hand,  knocking  the  knife  out  of  it  into  the  other  boat. 
With  an  angry  exclamation  Helmer  leant  further  over 
to  reach  it,  and  then  — 

"  Traitor  !     You've  done  for  me  !  " 

The  words  rose  to  a  shriek,  and  effectually  drowned 
a  low  murmur  of  sound,  scarce  articulate,  accompany- 
ing the  stab  which  buried  Helmer's  knife  almost  up  to 
the  handle  in  Myndert's  back. 

"There  —  pig — Dutchman!  Cato  not  forget  the 
flogging  you  get  him.     You  not  forget  this." 

There  was  a  moment  of  complete  confusion.  Myndert 
shrieked  and  writhed  with  pain,  tearing  his  hands  free, 
and  turning  on   Helmer.      At  the  same    moment  the 


FREE    TO    SERVE  265 

negro    pulled  the   knife  out  of  the   wound,  and   blood 
trickled  down  in  the  boat. 

"  You  would  stab  me  behind  my  back,  would  you,  you 
murderer !  " 

The  negro  crouched  low  in  the  blood-spattered  boat, 
his  face  livid  with  terror.  It  was  not  to  him,  however, 
tiiat  the  words  were  addressed. 

"  I  saw  you,  you  fiend  !  "  screamed  Myndert,  shaking 
his  trembling  fist  at  Helmer.  "  I  saw  you  bend  over  to 
do  it.     You  —  you  shall  hang  for  this." 

He  staggered,  and  would  have  fallen,  but  by  a  great 
effort  he  steadied  himself.  Passion  and  excitement  were 
lending  a  short  respite  from  death. 

"What  do  you  mean?  "  demanded  Helmer.  "The 
knife  was  knocked  out  of  my  hand." 

"You  lie!"  shouted  Myndert,  but  his  voice  was 
failing.  He  made  a  mighty  effort,  and  turned  on 
the  trembling  negro,  whose  features  worked  convul- 
sively. 

"You  saw  him  do  it?  You  saw  the  fiend  stab  me?  " 
he  cried. 

"  Yes,  yes.     Me  see." 

The  negro  drew  himself  together.  The  muscles  of  his 
face  ceased  to  work.  He  stood  up  and  faced  the  com- 
pany. 

"He  stoop  so,"  he  said,  pointing  to  Helmer,  "and 
then   push  so,"   and  he  imitated  the  action  of  stabbing. 

Myndert  cast  a  look  of  intense  hatred  on  Helmer. 

"  I  have  you  now.  You'll  not  escape  me,"  he  said, 
and  fell  fainting. 

There  was  consternation  among  the  sailors.  None 
knew  the  truth  of  the  story.  The  mate  had  seen  Helmer 
stoop,  and  thought  he  had  seen  him  recover  the  knife. 
He  turned  to  him  now. 

"  The  best  thing  you  can  do  is  to  get  ashore  as  soon 
as  possible,   and  make   yourself  scarce    till  this    blows 


266  FREE    TO    SERVE 

over,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice.  "  It  has  an  ugly  look, 
anyhow." 

"  It  is  a  lie,"  cried  Helmer  hotly.  "  The  knife  was 
never  in  my  hand  from  the  moment  I  dropped  it  until  it 
was  torn  from  Myndert's  back." 

The  mate  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  There  was  nobody  else  to  do  it  but  the  negro,"  he 
said,  "  and  he  was  on  the  fellow's  side.  Take  my  advice 
and  put  a  few  miles  between  yourself  and  these  parts 
before  morning.  If  I  make  no  mistake,  the  wounded 
man  has  not  many  hours  to  live.  He  was  stabbed  with 
your  knife.     It  looks  bad  enough. 

"  We  are  all  in  a  bad  fix,"  he  added,  as  he  stepped 
back  after  taking  the  precautions  he  deemed  necessary 
in  connection  with  Myndert's  crew.  "  We  shall  have  to 
get  our  cargo  ashore  in  double-quick  time,  and  put  out 
to  sea  for  a  week  or  two.  Luckily  none  of  these  fellows 
know  who  we  are." 

He  spoke  in  a  low  tone.  Helmer  looked  at  him 
blankly. 

"  Do  you  think  I  stabbed  him?  "  he  asked,  in  tones 
of  concentrated  horror. 

"What  else  can  I  think?  There  was  bad  blood  be- 
tween you,  as  was  shewn  by  his  words.  At  any  rate 
you  owe  it  to  us  to  keep  out  of  the  way.  We've  got  to 
get  out  of  this  somehow  " 

"What  will  you  do  with  him?"  Helmer  nodded 
towards  Myndert. 

"  Bind  up  his  wound  as  well  as  we  can  when  we  get 
to  shore,  and  send  him  to  the  nearest  dwelling,  in  charge 
of  his  own  men,  as  soon  as  it  is  safe.  But  it'll  be  no 
use,  mark  my  words.     He's  a  dead  man." 


FREE   TO    SERVE  267 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

"  '^T'OU  desire  to  speak  with  me?" 

\         Madam   Feljer  entered  the  room   where  she 
A     usually  gave  audience  to  her  tenants. 

"  Speak  with  you?  Aye,  but  it  would  be  something 
more  than  speech,  if  desire  went  for  anything." 

Arent  Hooghland  came  a  step  or  two  towards  Madam 
Feljer,  his  hand  clinched,  and  his  face  purple  with  pas- 
sion. 

She  looked  at  him  inquiringly. 

"What  is  it  you  would  say?"  she  asked  quietly. 

"What  would  I  say?  A  curse  on  you,  and  a  curse 
on  the  day  I  set  foot  on  your  land  !  Ruin  take  you 
and  yours  for  a  set  of  sneaking  cowards,  fit  only  to  stab- 
an  honest  lad  in  the  back  !  " 

Arent  Hooghland's  voice  was  hoarse  with  rage.  He 
shook  his  fist  menacingly  at  Madam  Feljer.  If  he 
thought  his  fury  could  daunt  the  little  woman,  or  make 
her  fear  his  great  burly  presence,  he  soon  learned  his 
mistake.     She  came  closer  to  him. 

"  These  are  strong  words,  Arent  Hooghland,"  she 
said. 

"  Strong !  Are  they  too  strong  for  the  occasion, 
think  you?  Would  jonr  words  be  weaker  if  one  of  my 
race  should  cruelly  and  sneakingly  take  the  life  of  a  son 
of  yours?  A  fair  fight  I  could  abide,  but  to  kill  a  man 
who  has  put  himself  at  your  mercy  —  it  would  take  a 
Feljer  to  do  that." 

"  Arent  Hooghland,  what  you  have  to  say,  say 
openly,  and  remember  that  you  will  be  held  respon- 
sible for  your  words." 


268  FREE    TO    SERVE 

Madam's  face  had  grown  white,  but  her  eyes  were 
shining. 

"I'll  take  the  responsibihty,"  said  Arent  savagely. 
"You'd  call  me  to  account  in  a  court  of  justice,  would 
you?  You  think  you're  hugely  influential.  But  what 
think  you  I  can  do?     I  can  hang  a  son  of  yours." 

He  lowered  his  head  to  bring  his  face  close  to  Madam 
Feljer's  as  the  last  words  were  hurled  from  his  lips. 
They  came  with  a  force  of  passion  that  caused  her  to 
recoil. 

"Yes,  and  I'll  do  it." 

"I  have  not  the  slightest  doubt  that  you  will,  if  you 
can  —  but  can  you  ?  " 

Madam  spoke  in  Dutch,  as  did  her  visitor.  Her 
voice  shook  a  little,  yet  her  eye  was  as  firm  as  ever. 

"Can  I?  Yes,  I  can,  while  there's  law  in  the  land. 
I  can  hang  a  Feljer  high  as  a  murderer,  and  force  you 
to  hide  your  accursed  faces." 

"If  empty  sound  would  do  it,  I  doubt  not  it  would 
soon  be  done,"  said  madam.  "  But  more  than  mere 
talk  is  needed  to  accomplish  that  of  which  you  speak. 
Whom  do  you  accuse,  and  of  what?" 

"Whom  do  I  accuse?"  shouted  the  enraged  Dutch- 
man. "  Whom  but  that  scoundrel  of  a  son  of  yours,  the 
villain  who  followed  my  boy  at  home  and  abroad,  till 
he  had  a  chance  to  do  him  to  death  in  the  very  act  of 
performing  his  duty  to  his  country?  Who  but  one 
would  do  such  an  act,  and  that  one  Helmer  Feljer? " 

Madam  put  out  her  hand,  as  if  she  would  stop  the 
outburst  of  words.     The  Dutchman  noted  the  act. 

"  Aha  !  That's  got  you,  old  woman,"  he  said  brutally. 
"'  It's  the  first  blow,  and  it's  told.  And  now  you  may 
look  out,  for  I  swear  I'll  never  stop  till  I've  battered 
and  bruised  that  old  heart  of  yours  as  my  woman's 
heart,  yes,  and  my  own  heart  too,  has  been  battered  by 
that  murderous  son  of  a  Feljer." 


FREE   TO    SERVE  269 

"  There  are  but  two  sons  in  the  Feljer  family.  To 
which  do  your  words  apply?  " 

The  clear  young  voice  rang  through  the  room.  It 
was  haughty  and  indignant.  Arent  turned  at  the 
sound. 

"  What  have  you  to  do  with  it,  an  upstart  of  a  slave 
at  best?  "  he  said. 

Aveline's  eyes  flashed,  but  she  left  the  remark  unan- 
swered. 

"  If  you  would  not  have  uncomfortable  proof  that 
madam  is  well  protected  from  ruffianly  attack  in  her 
own  house,  it  might  be  as  well  to  answer  the  questions 
that  are  put  to  you,"  she  said. 

"Answer?  I  can  do  that  fast  enough.  You  asked 
me  who  I  called  a  murderer.  It  is  Helmer  Feljer, 
Now  what  do  you  make  of  that?  " 

"  That  it  is  either  a  wicked  lie,  or  that  your  brain  is 
crazed,"  said  Aveline  instantly.  "There  is  nothing  else 
that  could  be  made  of  it." 

"A  lie,  is  it?"  roared  the  man.  "It's  a  He  that 
Helmer  was  aboard  some  vessel  that  headed  on  the  sly 
for  Long  Island,  and  that  he  helped  run  a  cargo  ashore 
without  paying  the  custom  dues,  I  suppose?  And  it's 
a  lie  that  my  Myndert  had  got  his  eye  on  the  rascals, 
aye,  and  come  to  close  quarters  with  them?  And  it's  a 
He  that  he  found  them  too  much  for  him,  and  gave  him- 
self up  into  their  hands,  and  then,  when  he  was  at  their 
mercy,  and  trusted  to  their  honour,  he  found  out  what 
the  honour  of  a  Feljer  was  worth?  That's  a  lie,  is  it? 
But  it's  no  lie  that  my  boy  is  at  death's  door  to-day, 
stabbed  in  the  back  by  a  cowardly  thrust  that  the  mur- 
derer daren't  have  attempted  to  his  face.  It's  no  lie 
that  my  woman  is  crying  her  heart  out  at  the  house, 
and  that  I  am  a  childless  man  to-day,  or  as  good  as  one, 
through  the  act  of  a  Feljer.  That's  no  lie,  though  you 
may  refuse  to  believe  it  as  you  please." 


270  FREE   TO    SERVE 

"  My  good  friend,  your  story  may  be  correct,  —  in 
truth  it  seems  to  me  that  you  beheve  it,  —  yet  is  the 
heat  of  your  manner  unjustifiable.  You  have  need  to 
seek  the  virtue  of  moderation.  Wrong  was  never  yet 
put  down,  nor  right  advanced,  by  the  aid  of  an  undis- 
cipHned  temper." 

Probity's  voice  was  low  and  deep.  It  arrested  the 
Dutchman,  even  in  the  moment  of  passion. 

"  Believe  it?  "  he  said,  and  this  time  he  did  not 
shout.  "  I  believe  it  so  thoroughly  that  I  start  in  an 
hour  for  Yorke,  in  the  hope  of  being  in  time  to  close 
my  son's  eyes,  and  to  see  to  it  that  before  he  dies 
the  murderer  is  denounced,  and  full  proof  of  his 
guilt  obtained.  I  go  to  bury  my  son,  and  hang  his 
murderer." 

"  You  have  a  sad  duty  to  perform,"  said  Probity, 
still  in  the  same  deep,  full  voice.  "  Yet  it  were  well  to 
see  that  justice  be  linked  with  mercy.  The  bed  of 
death  is  a  right  appropriate  spot  for  the  practice  of  that 
forgiveness  which  every  sinner  needs." 

"  He  showed  no  mercy,  and  he'll  get  no  more  than 
he  gave,"  was  the  answer. 

"  It  is  easy  to  make  assertions,"  broke  in  Aveline. 
"What  proof  have    you  that  what   you  say  is  true?" 

"  Proof?  The  word  of  one  who  saw  it  done,  and  of 
Myndert  himself.  There  came  to  me  to-day  a  messen- 
ger from  my  son,  bidding  me  come  and  avenge  him. 
And   I  am  going." 

"  Who  saw  it  done?  " 

Aveline's  tone  was  still  incredulous.  Her  question 
was  a  challenge. 

"  A  black  slave  belonging  to  Myndert's  crew.  He 
saw  the  coward  lift  the  weapon,  and  it  was  he  who 
pulled  the  cruel  knife  —  Helmer  Feljer's  knife,  mind 
you  —  from  out  the  wound.  He  saw  it  done.  And 
Myndert  saw  Helmer  stoop  as  he  made  the  lunge  that 


FREE   TO    SERVE  271 

dug  the  knife  well-nigh  to  my  boy's  heart.  Oh,  there's 
evidence  enough  to  hang  him,  no  fear !  " 

"  Arent  Hooghland,  if  what  you  say  be  true,  then  is 
the  pride  of  the  Feljers  laid  in  the  dust.  Go  you  to 
Yorke.  See  your  son,  and — mine.  Right  will  be  done, 
I  doubt  not,  but  until  it  be  proved,  I  refuse  to  credit 
your  story." 

Madam's  voice  was  hard  and  strained.  She  showed, 
however,  no  sign  of  flinching.  She  bestowed  on  the 
Dutchman  one  long,  searching  look,  and  turned  to  leave 
the  room.     In  a  moment  Aveline  was  at  her  side. 

"  It  is  a  cruel  falsehood,  madam,"  she  said,  in  a  low 
tone.      "  He  could  not  do  it." 

"  I  trust  you  are  right,  my  child,  but  —  he  has  grown 
strangely  passionate  of  late." 

Madam  traversed  the  narrow  passage  into  which  the 
door  opened,  and  walked  towards  the  staircase.  It  was 
noticeable  that  in  this  hour  of  fear  and  doubt  she  did 
not  turn  to  Geysbert.  He  was  not  far  away,  but  she 
did  not  ask  for  him.  Some  instinct  of  the  heart  warned 
her  that  he  too  would  think  there  might  be  truth  in  the 
accusation. 

"  I  may  come  in?  " 

Aveline  spoke  pleadingly. 

"  Yes.     You  —  have  faith  in  him." 

"  Madam,  I  know  him.  If  the  deed  were  done,  'twas 
not  of  craft  or  malice,  but  of  self-defence  or  necessity. 
Why,  madam,  his  hand  could  no  more  strike  a  cruel 
blow  than  could  your  own." 

Madam  uttered  no  word,  but  she  drew  the  girl's  head 
down  and  kissed  her. 

"  Truly  the  beginning  of  strife  is  like  the  letting  out 
of  water.  I  fear  that  my  poor  cousin  was  ever  wilful 
and  passionate." 

Probity  stood  by  Geysbert's  side,  with  her  hand  laid 
affectionately  on  his  arm.      She  had  been  talking  with 


2/2  FREE    TO    SERVE 

him  of  the  charge  against  Helmer.  When  her  aunt  left 
the  Dutchman  to  go  or  stay  as  he  chose,  she  remained 
behind. 

"For  my  aunt's  sake  and  for  yours,"  she  told  her 
cousin,  "I  felt  that  I  must  do  what  I  could.  Poor  Aunt 
Wyntie  was  in  no  fit  state  to  question  this  unfortunate 
father.  Therefore,  I  attempted,  as  far  as  in  me  lay,  to 
perform  the  duty  for  her.  I  learned  that  there  was 
much  resistance  to  the  efforts  of  the  officials  to  seize 
some  goods  being  brought  ashore  on  Long  Island,  and 
that  the  boats'  crews  were  too  well  armed  for  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  law,  at  the  head  of  whom  was  this 
good  man's  son.  Finding  himself  overpowered,  and 
seeing  no  use  in  holding  out  further,  Myndert  Hoogh- 
land  yielded  to  superior  numbers,  and  gave  himself  up. 
It  was  then,  when  a  prisoner,  and  one  who  had  laid 
down  his  arms,  that  Helmer  drew  a  knife  and  stabbed 
the  poor  man  almost  to  the  heart.  Truly  it  is  a  sad 
story,  and  yet — I  fear  me  the  heart  of  my  cousin  is 
sorely  prone  to  be  influenced  by  passion.  I  would  fain 
believe  him  guiltless,  but  I  fear — I  fear." 

"  Aye,  and  so  do  I." 

Geysbert  was  looking  moodily  in  front  of  him.  He 
did  not  need  the  information  Probity  had  imparted.  He 
had  already  visited  Hooghland's  dwelling,  and  person- 
ally interrogated  the  messenger  who  brought  the  news. 
He  had  met  the  Dutchman  when  he  left  the  house,  and 
heard  the  story  from  his  lips.  Hooghland  was  not 
bitter  against  Geysbert  —  except  for  being  a  Feljer.  He 
could  talk  to  him  more  calmly.  And  Geysbert  had  not 
exasperated  him  by  throwing  doubt  on  his  story. 

Hooghland  did  not  quite  know  what  to  make  of  Geys- 
bert. He  seemed  shockeid,  almost  stunned,  but  he  made 
no  violent  effort  to  confute  the  evidence.  The  Dutchman 
did  not  understand  it.  Not  that  this  was  to  be  wondered 
at.      Geysbert  did  not  understand  himself     There  was 


FREE    TO    SERVE  273 

a  strange  commotion  going  on  within.  He  was  shocked, 
unnerved  by  the  charge,  but  he  found  within  himself  no 
overpowering  impulse  to  deny  it.  The  horror  and  dis- 
grace touched  him  strongly,  but  beneath  was  a  feeling 
he  did  not  stop  to  analyze.  Thoughts  of  Aveline,  and 
of  the  possible  consequences  of  this  disclosure,  intruded 
themselves.  He  was  powerfully  affected,  but  the  story 
had  not  struck  home  to  his  heart  as  it  had  done  to  the 
heart  of  Madam  Feljer. 

"  Alas,  that  my  aunt  should  have  one  sorrow  close  on 
the  heels  of  another." 

Geysbert  started.  He  had  not  been  thinking  of  his 
mother. 

"  Poor  mother.  It  is  hard  on  her,"  he  said,  and  he 
said  it  uneasily. 

"  Yes.  Affliction  is  laying  its  hand  heavily  upon  her, 
and  her  heart  is  bowed  with  sorrow.  I  will  go  again 
and  seek  to  comfort  her,  but  first  I  thought  it  best  to 
see  you,  that  I  might  impart  to  you  the  knowledge  I 
had  gained.  What  think  you  it  will  be  best  to  do? 
My  cousin  Geysbert  will,  I  am  sure,  be  no  laggard  in 
doing  all  that  is  right." 

"  No.  I  intend  to  waste  no  time,"  said  Geysbert. 
"  I  shall  start  for  New  York  before  night.  Then  I  must 
be  guided  by  circumstances,  but  I  think  —  if  the  accu- 
sation be  true  —  that  flight  alone  will  save  Helmer.  He 
was  yet  at  liberty  when  the  messenger  started." 

"  Then  you  have  seen  this  Hooghland?" 

Probity  looked  a  little  crestfallen.  Her  information 
was  but  stale  news  after  all. 

"  Yes,  and  his  informant  also.  I  have  lost  no 
moment  of  time.  I  must  see  my  mother,  and  then 
away." 

Geysbert's  mind  was  in  a  whirl.  He  felt  as  if  action 
alone  were  bearable.  He  mounted  the  stairs  two  steps 
at  a  time. 


274  FREE   TO    SERVE 

"  Have  you  heard?  " 

Madam  asked  it  eagerly.  She  was  looking  for  some 
sign  of  hope. 

"  Yes.     I  am  going  to  Yorke," 

"  And  you  think  —  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  think." 

"  He  did  not  do  it.  Helmer  is  not  capable  of  mean- 
ness." 

Her  voice  was  appealing. 

"  No.  And  yet  —  he  has  of  late  shown  himself  in  a 
new  light.  No,  it  does  not  seem  as  if  Helmer  could  do 
a  dastardly  deed;   but  a  violent  deed —  I  am  not  sure." 

Geysbert  spoke  hesitatingly.  In  a  great  measure  he 
was  speaking  according  to  his  convictions.  His  rela- 
tions with  Helmer  had  not  of  late  brought  out  the  softer 
side  of  his  brother's  nature,  and  possibly  Geysbert's 
eyes  had  not  been  as  keen  to  discern  the  good  as  to 
pick  out  the  evil.  In  those  first  moments  he  felt  rather 
strongly  convinced  of  Helmer's  guilt,  but  if  he  had 
known  how  much  the  conviction  depended  on  the 
antagonism  between  himself  and  Helmer,  he  might  have 
been  startled. 

"  How  soon  will  you  start?  " 

"  In  half  an  hour." 

"  Very  well.     I  shall  be  ready." 

"You?" 

"  Certainly.  Helmer  must  have  the  counsel  of  one 
who  is  not  prejudiced  against  him." 

"But,  mother,  it  is  impossible.  Everything  depends 
on  a  hasty  journey.  I  shall  take  a  canoe.  Your  pres- 
ence would  hinder  materially.  I  shall  let  no  risk  stop 
me  from  pushing  on  day  and  night.  With  you  I  dare 
not  hurry  thus.  Helmer's  life  may  depend  on  my 
being  in  time.     Surely  it  is  foolishness  to  risk  it." 

Madam  Feljer  wavered.  There  was  wisdom  in  Geys- 
bert's words. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  275 

"  You  will  do  all  that  can  be  done,"  she  said,  "  as  if 

—  as  if  you  believed  in  him  thoroughly?" 

"  I  will  do  everything  possible,  as  much  as  you  could 
do  yourself." 

"  And  as  soon  as  you  reach  the  city,  and  have  seen 

—  my  boy  Helmer — you  will  dispatch  a  messenger? 
Then,  if  there  be  need,  I  can  come." 

"  I  will,"  said  Geysbert. 

He  stooped  to  kiss  her,  and  then  hurried  away. 

Madam  herself  prepared  all  that  was  necessary  for 
the  journey.  She  was  very  quiet,  but  she  grudged 
every  moment  that  passed. 

"  Spare  nothing,  neither  yourself  nor  your  money," 
she  said.     "  It  is  for  your  brother." 

"  You  may  trust  me,"  replied  Geysbert,  and  he  kissed 
her  again  and  was  gone. 


276  FREE   TO    SERVE 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

"f   ■    ^HEY  don't  know  him,  Kip,  —  not  one  of  them 
I      —  only  you  —  and  me." 

JL  AvcHne  buried  her  face  in  the  dog's  rough 
coat,  and  put  her  arms  about  his  neck.  Out  here,  in 
the  shelter  of  the  leafless  trees,  there  was  no  one  to  see. 
Even  the  sun  was  not  looking.  He  had  drawn  a  cur- 
tain of  cloud  between  himself  and  the  girl  kneeling  on 
the  frozen  ground  to  caress  the  dog  —  Helmer's  dog, 
and  the  only  one  in  the  family,  beside  herself,  that  had 
no  doubt  of  Helmer's  honour. 

"  Even  madam  cannot  trust  him.  She  says  he  is 
passionate,  and  might  have  been  driven  on  before  he 
realized  what  he  was  doing.  As  if  he  coicld  be  either 
mean  or  cruel !      You  know,  don't  you.  Kip?" 

There  was  a  catch  in  her  voice.  Kip  heard  it,  and 
vi^riggled  himself  free  until  his  great  wistful  eyes  could 
look  into  hers.  Then  he  gave  vent  to  a  low  whine. 
Something  was  wrong.  This  girl,  to  whom  Kip  had 
surrendered  all  that  was  left  of  his  heart  when  Helmer's 
share  was  taken  out  of  it,  —  this  girl  whom  Helmer  him- 
self had  bidden  the  dog  serve,  —  was  in  trouble.  Kip 
knew  it  by  that  catch  in  her  voice,  and  the  sorrowful 
droop  of  her  lips.  He  whined  again.  He  must  needs 
say  something  to  comfort  her.  The  effort  after  expres- 
sion gave  movement  to  every  joint  of  his  body.  Kip 
was  talking  all  over,  from  the  tip  of  his  restless  tail  to 
the  big  mournful  eyes,  and  the  red  tongue  that  touched 
Aveline's  face  lovingly. 

"  Oh,  Kip,  Kip,  they  hate  him  so  !  " 

Kip's  frame  shook  with  his  efforts  to  respond,  and 
his  ej'-es  grew  deeper  with  sympathy. 


FREE   TO   SERVE  277 

"And  that  dreadful  man  said — oh,  Kip,  they  — 
they  daren't  —  hang  him  !  " 

It  had  found  voice  now,  the  fear  which  AveHne  had 
hidden  even  from  herself,  ever  since  Arent  Hooghland 
uttered  his  horrible  threat.  It  was  only  a  whisper, 
almost  too  low  for  Kip's  sharp  ears,  for  it  seemed  to 
Aveline  that  to  say  it  was  to  give  it  reality.  Now,  at 
the  whispered  word,  she  broke  down,  and  a  passion  of 
sobs  overpowered  her.  She  buried  her  face  again  in 
Kip's  shaggy  coat,  and  the  dog  stood  trembling  with 
sympathy,  uttering  now  and  again  a  low  plaintive  whine. 
The  sorrow  was  becoming  too  deep  for  expression.  His 
great  honest  heart  was  heaving  with  his  desire  to  com- 
fort this  girl  —  his  mistress.  Kip  knew  she  was  his 
mistress,  for  Helmer  had  told  him  so,  that  day  —  so 
long  ago  that  to  the  dog  it  seemed  a  lifetime  —  when 
his  master  turned  the  big  loving  head  towards  his  own 
face,  and  bade  him  go  to  her,  and  obey  her,  while  he, 
Helmer,  was  away.  It  was  not  expected  that  Kip  would 
comprehend  every  word  of  that  half-whispered  farewell, 
some  of  which  was  addressed  to  himself,  and  some  to 
this  girl,  whose  face  was  buried  in  his  coat.  Possibly 
he  was  not  meant  to  comprehend. 

"  Will  you  let  him  be  yours  while  I  am  gone?  "  Hel- 
mer had  said.  "  I  should  not  like  to  feel  that  his  loyal, 
affectionate  heart  would  be  starved  for  three  whole 
months — however  his  master's  heart  may  fare.  Kip 
is  nothing  but  a  follower,"  he  had  added  with  a  laugh. 
"  It  is  part  of  his  nature  to  be  one  with  me.  Where  his 
master  loves,  Kip  adores,  and  —  he  long  ago  gave  his 
heart  into  your  keeping." 

There  certainly  was  a  resemblance  between  Kip  and 
his  master  at  the  moment  when  Helmer  said  that.  Both 
were  trying  to  say  more  with  their  eyes  than  they  could 
put  into  words.     And  they  both  succeeded. 


278  FREE   TO   SERVE 

"  She  ought  to  know  him  better,  Kip,  she  ought,  and 
she  —  his  mother!  " 

The  whine  increased  to  a  short  yelp. 

"  Hush,  doggie  !  We  don't  want  to  be  found.  We 
are  not  going  to  cry — not  at  any  other  time.  It  would 
be  like  saying  he  —  did  it." 

And  then  the  tears  trickled  into  the  shaggy  hair,  and 
the  sobs  came  faster  again. 

It  was  a  whole  day  since  Geysbert  started  for  New 
York,  and  a  silent  horror  hung  over  the  manor  house. 
Madam  had  shut  herself  in  her  room,  admitting  even 
Probity  and  Aveline  but  seldom.  The  very  slaves  felt 
that  trouble  brooded  over  the  house,  and  they  moved 
about  with  wide  solemn  eyes,  and  portentous  shakes  of 
the  head. 

The  general  solemnity  exasperated  Aveline.  She 
could  not  believe,  she  would  not  believe,  that  there  was 
any  necessity  for  it.  The  story  was  all  a  wicked  fabri- 
cation of  Myndert  Hooghland's,  and  would  explode  as 
soon  as  it  was  investigated.  It  was  a  cruel  injustice  to 
Helmer  to  deem  it  even  possible  that  he  could  commit 
murder  in  cold  blood.  Aveline  could  have  excused 
strangers  for  crediting  it,  though  that  was  preposterous 
enough,  but  that  madam  should  waver,  and  admit  the 
possibility,  was  beyond  her  comprehension.  How  could 
madam  help  knowing  that  the  accusation  was  false? 
Though  all  the  world  should  assert  its  truth,  Aveline 
would  not  waver. 

"  Dear  child,  you  have  yet  to  learn  that  the  heart  is 
an  unsafe  guide,  and  that  its  evidence  is  to  be  accepted 
with  misgivings,"  Probity  had  said  gravely,  when  some 
such  thought  found  voice. 

And  Aveline  had  replied  that  in  her  opinion  there 
was  less  danger  in  listening  to  the  testimony  of  a  warm 
heart  than  in  followine:  the  guidance  of  a  cold  head,  that 


FREE   TO    SERVE  279 

saw  enough  faults,  and  missed  enough  virtues,  in  one 
day,  to  stamp  it  a  faithless  counsellor. 

Ryseck  Schredel  was  the  only  sensible  person  about 
the  place  —  in  Aveline's  estimation. 

"  Myndert  Hooghland  says  Helmer's  killed  him,  does 
he?  "  she  asked,  with  a  sniflf,  and  she  snapped  her  fin- 
gers defiantly.  "  That  for  what  Myndert  Hooghland 
says !  I  wouldn't  believe  the  rascal  if  he  up  and  told 
me  when  he  was  dead  and  buried,  let  alone  listening  to 
him  on  what  he  chooses  to  declare  is  his  death-bed. 
Death-bed  !  Not  it.  It's  not  the  first  time  an  angel  has 
come  into  too  close  contact  with  the  devil,  and  the  devil 
has  cried  '  Murder !  '  but  when  the  hullabaloo  is  over, 
it's  never  the  devil  that  is  dead.  You  can't  kill  that 
sort.  I  doubt  the  lad  is  too  much  a  chip  of  that  block 
to  be  kicked  out  of  this  world  easy.  Old  Arent  Hoogh- 
land needn't  go  wailing  round  bemoaning  his  childless- 
ness. He'll  find  he's  in  no  such  luck  as  that  yet,  or  I've 
lost  my  mark." 

Thoughts  not  altogether  opposed  to  Ryseck's  view  of 
the  case  passed  through  Geysbert's  mind  as  he  pushed 
his  canoe  through  the  waters  of  the  Hudson.  It  was 
fortunate  for  his  purpose  that  the  winter  was  unduly 
late,  for  it  was  no  ordinary  thing  to  be  able  to  reach 
New  York  by  water  at  this  season  —  not  a  week  before 
Christmas. 

The  mode  of  travel  gave  abundant  opportunity  for 
thought.  Geysbert  had  hardly  thought  at  all  since 
Arent  Hooghland  made  his  accusation.  His  brain  had 
been  in  a  whirl,  and  intense  excitement  had  found  vent 
in  action.  The  excitement  was  not  diminished,  but  the 
action  was  now  little  more  than  mechanical.  In  such  a 
position  thought  crowded  in  upon  him,  and  all  the  pos- 
sibilities of  this  crisis  presented  themselves  in  review  — 
arrest,  trial,  perhaps  death,  for  Helmer,  and  disgrace 
for  the  name  of  Feljer.     Geysbert   was  a  proud  man. 


28o  FREE   TO    SERVE 

and  the  prospect  of  being  the  talk  of  the  province  made 
him  set  his  teeth  together  savagely.  Why  could  not 
Helmer  keep  out  of  mischief,  or  if  he  must  needs  go  in 
for  adventure,  why  should  he  so  far  lose  control  of  him- 
self as  to  attack  Myndert  personally? 

Geysbert's  anger  was  hot  against  his  younger  brother. 
Was  there  no  end  to  the  loss  he  must  suffer  through 
Helmer?  A  few  days  ago  he  had  been  called  upon  to 
give  up  the  desire  which  had  been  gaining  strength  from 
the  moment  when  he  stepped  aboard  the  "  Bullfinch,"  and 
saw  the  sweet  sorrowful  face  that  had  never  yet  departed 
from  his  dreams.  Now  his  good  name  was  to  follow, 
unless,  as  perchance  might  prove  to  be  the  case,  Arent 
had  magnified  the  danger,  and  he  should  find  Myndert 
less  seriously  injured  than  he  had  been  led  to  expect. 
It  was  possible,  too,  that  there  might  be  another  version 
of  the  story,  a  version  in  which  the  positions  would  be 
reversed,  and  Myndert  instead  of  Helmer  be  proved  to 
have  been  the  aggressor.  Almost  without  will  of  his 
own  Geysbert  contrasted  the  two,  Myndert,  the  accuser, 
and  Helmer.  Myndert  he  knew  well,  and  Helmer  bet- 
ter, and  in  view  of  his  knowledge  of  the  two  characters 
some  such  thought  as  Ryseck  had  expressed  entered 
his  mind,  and  he  acknowledged  the  charge  to  be  a  strange 
one. 

When  his  thought  turned  thus  to  his  brother,  it  was 
always  to  the  boy  Helmer,  the  young  brother  whom  he 
had  protected  and  loved  in  the  days  when  there  was 
no  rivalry  between  them.  That  this  Helmer  could  be 
guilty  of  baseness,  of  deliberate  treachery  and  cruelty, 
was  impossible.  The  old  affection  struggled  to  the  front, 
fought  to  push  aside  the  new  bitterness,  to  sweep  away 
resentment  and  ill-will.  It  would  surely  have  succeeded, 
but  between  the  memory  of  his  brother  and  his  own 
softening  heart  came  the  face  of  a  girl,  and  as  often 
as  it  came  affection  was  worsted,  and  the  hard  grudge 


FREE   TO    SERVE  281 

returned.  Helmer  was  his  rival,  and  would  succeed 
where  he  had  failed,  would  win  the  good  he  himself 
coveted.  It  was  for  him  only  a  question  of  time,  unless 
—  well,  there  were  many  contingencies  just  now. 

Geysbert  did  not  seek  to  persuade  himself  that  Hel- 
mer's  suit  would  end  as  unsatisfactorily  as  his  own.  His 
failure  proved  some  antecedent  success.  Aveline  must 
care  for  Helmer,  because  she  had  declined  to  care  for 
him.  She  had  been  very  determined,  very  definite  in 
her  refusal  to  listen  to  his  plea,  and  he  had  accepted 
her  decision  as  final,  for  would  not  Helmer  soon  be 
back  to  try  his  luck?  But  now,  with  Helmer  out  of  the 
field  — 

Ah,  but  was  Helmer  out  of  the  field?  He  was  going 
to  New  York  to  vindicate  his  brother,  to  prove  Myn- 
dert  a  liar,  and  make  it  possible  for  Helmer  to  return  and 
wed  Aveline.  Aye,  was  he?  Something  of  this  he  had 
been  proposing,  or  his  heart  had  been  proposing;  but 
what  of  the  consequences?  Could  he  bear  to  see  Ave- 
line Helmer's  bride,  and  know  that  his  own  hand  had 
given  his  rival  the  prize?  He  uttered  an  impatient 
exclamation,  and  urged  his  boat  the  faster.  This  jour- 
ney was  interminable,  and  thought  —  thought  was  mad- 
dening, and  worse  than  useless.  Where  was  the  sense 
in  thinking?  He  did  not  know  yet  whether  Helmer 
might  not  be  guilty  of  the  charge  brought  against  him. 
He  could  but  wait  and  see,  leave  the  question  open, 
and  be  ready  to  weigh  the  evidence  when  any  presented 
itself. 

Thus  it  happened  that  when  Geysbert  reached  New 
York  he  was  in  a  receptive  mood  ;  that  is,  he  was  open 
to  charges  against  his  brother.  Bit  by  bit  jealousy  had 
been  triumphing  over  love,  and  though  he  was  thor- 
oughly prepared  to  defend  his  brother  should  he  find 
him  guiltless,  and  to  aid  in  his  escape  if  he  should  in- 
deed be  guilty,  none  of  the  softer  feelings  were  to  the 


282  FREE    TO    SERVE 

fore  when  he  paid  his  first  visit  to  Myndert,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  learning  as  much  as  possible  of  the  encounter. 

He  experienced  a  distinct  shock  when  he  stepped 
into  the  room  where  Myndert  lay.  After  that  first 
glance  he  did  not  attempt  to  deny  that  murder  had  been 
committed.  Was  it  Helmer's  hand  that  had  dealt  the 
fatal  blow? 

The  wounded  man  roused  himself  at  Geysbert's  en- 
trance. His  hollow  shining  eyes  looked  into  the  face 
of  his  former  friend. 

"  I  was  as  full  of  life  as  you  a  week  ago,"  he  said,  in 
a  fierce,  weak  voice.  "  Now  look  at  me.  Dying  !  And 
through  him  !  " 

It  was  his  only  greeting. 

"  Nay,  but  you  will  get  better,"  said  Geysbert,  fas- 
cinated by  the  hatred  in  those  gleaming  eyes. 

"  You  know  better,  Geysbert  Feljer.  And  I  know 
better.  I'm  a  dying  man.  The  blow  was  aimed  to  kill, 
and  it  has  not  failed  of  its  work.  Dying  !  Aye,  but 
by  all  that's  holy  I  swear  I'll  not  die  till  I've  set  in  mo- 
tion that  which  shall  hang  him  for  the  murderer  he  is." 

Geysbert  recoiled  from  the  exceeding  rancour  of  the 
speaker.  His  eyes  shone  as  if  they  were  the  outlets  for 
the  fire  of  hatred  burning  within.  He  put  forth  his 
hand  and  clutched  that  of  Geysbert. 

"What  have  you  come  for?  "  he  asked  suspiciously. 
"  To  cheat  me  of  my  revenge?  A  curse  on  you  if  you 
defraud  justice  of  her  right,  and  me  of  the  joy  of  know- 
ing he  will  hang  !  " 

The  hand  which  clasped  Geysbert's  seemed  to  scorch 
through  the  cool  healthy  flesh.  It  held  him  with  the 
nervous  grip  of  weakness. 

"  Where  is  he?"  asked  Myndert,  his  hold  tightening. 
"  Are  you  hiding  him  up  there  till  I  am  dead  and 
buried?  " 

"  Hiding  him?     No.      I  know  nothing  of  my  brother, 


FREE   TO    SERVE  283 

or  of  this  —  accident,"  replied  Geysbert.  "  I  came  to 
hear  from  you  all  that  you  could  tell  me." 

"And  for  what  purpose?  To  thwart  me  in  the  end, 
and  snatch  that  dastardly  wretch,  that  murderous  villain, 
from  the  punishment  he  deserves?  Aha!  You'll  not 
do  it.      I  shall  die  easy  yet." 

His  hold  relaxed,  and  he  lay  exhausted,  passion  yet 
quivering  in  the  nerves  of  the  death-like  face.  It  took 
time  and  much  patience  to  draw  from  him  the  particu- 
lars of  the  night  encounter,  and  the  sudden  stabbing. 
Again  and  again  his  anger  blazed  up,  and  he  raved 
until  exhaustion  put  a  stop  to  his  invectives. 

His  passion  reacted  on  Geysbert.  He  had  been  wait- 
ing for  some  influence  to  confirm  his  mind's  attitude 
towards  his  brother.  He  had  thought  to  keep  himself 
impartially  from  judgment,  and  in  truth  he  had  decided 
before  ever  he  set  foot  in  New  York.  Professing  to 
hold  the  balance  even,  he  had  allowed  the  memory  of  a 
girl's  face  to  turn  the  scale.  Now  he  was  unconsciously 
looking  for  confirmation  of  his  decision,  and  he  found- 
it.  In  the  shattered  life  before  him  he  saw  Helmer's 
handiwork.  He  was  ready  to  see  it  so,  and  since  the 
will  has  much  to  do  with  the  judgment,  it  was  not  long 
before  Geysbert's  judgment  was  convinced,  and  his  heart 
hardened  against  Helmer. 

There  were  not  many  additional  facts  to  be  learned 
from  Myndert.  Of  the  vessel  to  which  the  boats 
belonged  he  could  tell  nothing.  No  suspicious  bark 
had  come  into  port,  and  in  the  darkness  and  the  confu- 
sion of  the  fray  he  had  recognized  none  of  the  crew. 
When  he  recovered  conciousness  he  found  himself  in  a 
place  of  safety,  whither  he  had  been  carried  by  his  own 
men. 

Neither  then  nor  since  had  there  been  any  trace  of 
Helmer. 

"  Let    him  hide,"   said   Myndert  vindictively.      "  Let 


284  FREE    TO    SERVE 

him  lead  the  life  of  a  rat  in  a  hole.  He  cannot  hide  for- 
ever. There'll  be  a  day  when  he'll  come  out  of  his 
burrow,  and  as  soon  as  he  shows  his  head  he's  a  dead 
man." 

Geysbert  had  no  better  success  with  the  negro.  He 
interrogated  him  closely,  but  could  not  make  him  swerve 
from  his  statement.  There  was  no  trace  of  guilt  in  the 
manner  in  which  he  described  the  fight,  and  its  tragical 
ending.  Geysbert  could  find  no  flaw  in  his  evidence. 
Things  looked  black  for  Helmer.  His  absence  spoke 
strongly  for  the  truth  of  the  accusation.  To  Geysbert 
there  seemed  little  reason  to  doubt  that  his  hand  had 
guided  the  knife. 

On  the  whole,  Geysbert  was  relieved  that  he  found  no 
trace  of  his  brother.  Since  he  was  guilty,  the  best  thing 
that  could  happen  would  be  his  complete  disappearance. 
Geysbert  had  his  own  opinion  as  to  the  mode  of  that 
disappearance,  and  in  accordance  with  that  opinion  he 
covertly  watched  all  in-coming  vessels.  Not  that  he 
expected  to  see  Helmer  on  any  one  of  them.  It  was  only 
a  fear  lest  his  brother  should  return  that  kept  him  in  the 
city.  He  wanted  to  warn  him,  if  such  should  be  the 
case.  He  was  convinced  that  Helmer  was  guilty,  but  he 
was  none  the  less  resolved  to  spare  him  the  punishment 
of  his  crime  —  up  to  a  certain  point.  But  Helmer  must 
keep  away.  His  own  life  depended  on  it.  Yes,  and 
there  was  something  else  that  depended  on  it  too.  Once 
again  came  the  thought  of  Aveline,  and  now  there  was 
with  it  a  distinct  feeling  of  triumph.  The  prize  was  not 
Helmer's — never  would  be  Helmer's  now. 

A  smile  hovered  about  his  lips  when  he  thought  of 
the  light  in  which  his  report  would  place  Helmer,  and 
of  how  the  news  would  be  looked  upon  by  Aveline. 
That  smile  was  not  a  pleasant  one.  It  did  not  soften, 
even  at  memory  of  Aveline.  Why  should  it?  She  had 
preferred  Helmer  to  himself,  now  she  would  have  the 


FREE   TO    SERVE  285 

opportunity  of  seeing  the  folly  of  her  choice.  He  would 
spare  her  none  of  the  pain  —  it  would  be  better  that 
she  should  feel  it  all.  The  sharper  the  pang,  the  more 
wholesome  the  discipline.  But  when  it  had  done  its 
work,  when  she  had  suffered  sufficiently,  he  would  com- 
foit  her,  and  teach  her  to  love  again,  more  wisely  than 
before. 

It  was  with  this  thought  in  his  mind  that  he  wrote 
and  sent  off  the  letter  he  had  promised  to  dispatch  to 
his  mother.  He  spared  no  detail  that  might  convince 
his  readers  of  Helmer's  guilt.  He  pictured  Myndert's 
dying  condition,  and  gave  the  slave's  testimony.  And, 
consciously  or  unconsciously,  he  put  into  every  word 
the  colour  of  his  own  feeling.  When  that  special  dis- 
patch reached  her  hand,  madam  shut  herself  in  her  own 
room.  Geysbert  had  meant  that  the  bitterness  of  that 
letter  should  eat  into  a  woman's  heart,  and  it  did  — but 
it  was  the  heart  of  an  old  woman,  and  the  corrosion  went 
deep.  Old  hearts  sometimes  grow  frail  beneath  the 
troubles  of  life,  and  possibly  madam's  heart  was  not  as 
tough  as  her  elder  son  believed. 

Geysbert  did  not  hasten  his  return.  He  stayed  to 
watch  events,  and  possibly  to  allow  his  letter  to  work. 
The  more  he  thought  of  Aveline,  and  of  all  he  would 
say  to  her,  the  more  he  elaborated  the  case,  and  sought 
in  his  own  mind  to  meet  the  objections  she  would  be  sure 
to  raise,  the  stronger  he  became  in  his  position.  He  had 
at  first  simply  accepted  the  guilt  of  his  brother,  allowed 
his  opinion  on  that  point  to  become  settled  ;  now  he  had 
gone  further,  and  assumed  the  function  of  prosecuting 
attorney.  He  was  personally  interested  in  working  up 
the  case.      He  grew  hot  on  the  side  of  justice. 

When  he  left  New  York,  Myndert  was  still  alive.  It 
seemed  as  if  his  hatred  of  Helmer  prevented  his  death. 
His  wound  had  not  healed,  and  he  was  slowly  sinking, 
but  he  held  on  to  life  with  wonderful  tenacity. 


286  FREE   TO    SERVE 

"  He'll  not  escape  me,"  he  said  to  Geysbert,  by  way 
of  farewell. 

The  young  man  did  not  return  by  the  way  he  had 
come.  Winter  had  swooped  down  on  the  province, 
and  the  Hudson  was  frozen.  By  the  route  that  Helmer 
had  expected  to  take,  and  only  slightly  later  than  the 
time  when  Helmer  should  have  returned,  he  made  his 
way  homeward. 

It  was  when  less  than  a  day's  journey  from  the  manor 
house,  and  after  he  had  discharged  his  Indian  guide, 
that  he  halted  to  satisfy  his  hunger.  Behind  a  tree,  not 
more  than  a  stone's  throw  away,  a  silent-footed  traveller 
halted  too.  From  tree  to  tree  that  figure  had  followed 
Geysbert  for  hours.  Now,  as  the  young  man  threw 
himself  down  to  rest,  the  Indian  stepped  out  into  the 
trail.  Geysbert  looked  up  in  some  surprise,  but  in  no 
alarm,  for  the  Indians  of  the  neighbourhood  were  all 
friendly.     The  stranger  advanced. 

"  You  are  he  they  call  Geysbert,  son  of  the  good 
white  brother  of  the  house  on  the  hill,"  he  said  in  Dutch. 

"  Yes.  What  do  you  want  with  me?  "  asked  Geysbert. 

"  I  bring  this  from  the  hand  of  the  young  white 
brother.  He  say,  let  it  speak  of  him,  and  when  it  has 
spoken,  drop  it  into  the  fire  that  brothers  burn  as  we 
burn  our  fires  of  friendship.  Let  it  go  to  ashes.  Ashes 
have  no  tongues." 

Geysbert  started,  and  changed  colour. 

"  Where  is  the  white  brother?  "  he  asked. 

The  Indian  turned  slightly,  and  with  a  sweep  of  his 
hand   indicated  the  whole  broad   land. 

"  Where  is  the  deer  that  fed  here  yesterday,  or  the 
wolf  that  passed  last  night?  Under  the  great  sun,  and 
above  the  hard  earth.     He  is  there." 

He  looked  fixedly  at  Geysbert  for  a  minute,  saw  him 
untie  the  packet,  and  departed  as  silently  as  he  had 
come. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  287 

For  fully  half  an  hour  Geysbert  sat  with  the  paper 
in  his  hand,  his  eyes  bent  on  the  closely  written  lines. 
Hunger  was  forgotten.  In  that  half-hour  he  had  the 
opportunity  to  remodel  his  opinions.  He  heard  the 
story  of  the  night  encounter  from  the  other  side. 
Helmer  kept  nothing  back.  He  told  all  the  facts, 
reserving  only  the  name  of  the  vessel  in  which  he  sailed. 
He  announced  his  intention  of  keeping  in  hiding  for  a 
time,  in  the  hope  that  Myndert  would  recover,  and 
promised  to  communicate,  if  possible,  with  his  family. 
He  begged  Geysbert  to  watch  the  issues  closely,  and 
when  his  messengers  came  to  let  him  know  how  things 
stood.  And  he  sent  a  loving  message  to  his  mother, 
and  to  Aveline  and  Probity.  He  did  not  spend  much 
time  in  protesting  his  innocence.  He  simply  asserted 
it,  having  no  doubt  that  his  assertion  would  be  believed. 
In  the  end  he  advised  the  burning  of  the  letter  as  soon 
as  it  had  been  read  at  home,  or  before,  if  necessary. 

Geysbert  read  from  end  to  end  of  the  epistle,  and  then 
turned  back  and  read  again.  His  face  did  not  soften. 
His  lips  were  pressed  tightly  together.  For  the  third 
time  he  read.     Then  his  lips  opened. 

"It  is  a  lie,"  he  said;  "cleverly  constructed,  truly, 
but  a  lie." 

And  then  he  carried  out  the  Indian's  directions.  He 
gathered  together  a  few  dry  sticks  and  kindled  a  fire. 
Then  in  the  midst  of  "  the  fire  of  friendship  such  as 
brothers  burn  "  ?  he  dropped  the  packet,  and  watched 
it  go  to  ashes.  The  light  sticks  blazed  themselves  out, 
and  the  embers  grew  cold  and  dead.  Geysbert  knocked 
them  apart,  and  pursued  his  journey.  He  reached  the 
manor  house  before  nightfall. 


288  FREE   TO    SERVE 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

MISSY   AV'LINE!" 
Tyte's  voice  was  sunk  to  a  mysterious  whisper. 
He  lifted  a  woolly  head  just  high  enough  from 
behind  a  snow-bank  to  disclose  a  pair  of  eyes.      Aveline 
started  violently,  and  gave  a  little  gasp. 

"What  are  you  doing,  hiding  behind  there?"  she 
asked  sharply. 

She  was  angry  with  herself  for  being  startled.  She 
was  getting  uncomfortably  nervous  in  these  days. 

"  Missy  Av'line,"  whispered  Tyte  again,  still  in  that 
mysteriously  low  tone,  "  I  got  someting  'portant  to  tell, 
but "  —  and  here  Tyte's  voice  sank  until  the  sound 
fairly  stuck  in  his  throat  —  "  Mars'r  Geysbert  better  not 
see  me  tell  it." 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Aveline,  still  somewhat  impa- 
tiently. 

"  Someting  'bout  —  Mars'r  Helmer." 

Aveline's  face  grew  white.  Tyte  dropped  down  be- 
hind his  snow-bank. 

"  Dere's  Mars'r  Geysbert,"  he  whispered,  and  lay 
perfectly  still. 

Aveline  was  wise  enough  not  to  turn  her  head.  She 
continued  her  walk  towards  the  slaves'  quarters.  When 
she  reached  them  she  stopped,  gave  some  directions  to 
the  first  negro  woman  she  met,  and  ended  by  instruct- 
ing her  to  send  Tyte  to  the  house  when  he  was  next 
seen.     She  had  something  for  him  to  do. 

"  Just  so,  missy,"  was  the  answer,  in  Dutch.  "  And 
how  goes  it  with  madam?  Ah,  it's  sore  times  we've 
had  since  the  good   master  was  taken." 


FREE   TO    SERVE  289 

"  Madam  is  feeling  better,  I  think,"  replied  Aveline 
kindly.     "  The  orders  I  bring  came  from  herself." 

"Bless  you,  missy,  that's  good  news,"  replied  the 
woman  heartily. 

The  slaves  at  the  manor  house  were  all  old  servants, 
and  had  watched  the  growing  up  of  the  young  people 
alongside  that  of  their  own  progeny.  To  them  the 
house  was  desolate,  now  that  the  old  master  was  gone, 
and  one  son  away,  nobody  knew  where.  Madam 
seemed  their  only  stay,  and  from  the  day  when  a  certain 
messenger  arrived  from  New  York  bearing  to  her  a 
sealed  packet,  madam  had  perceptibly  failed. 

The  presence  of  Aveline  and  Probity  was  a  necessity 
now,  for  the  care  of  the  household  had  fallen  almost 
entirely  upon  them.  Aveline's  days  had  become  a  con- 
tinual conflict  between  loving  tenderness  and  impatient 
resistance.  The  silent  sorrow  that  looked  out  of  mad- 
am's eyes  made  the  girl  feel  a  constant  impulse  to 
caress  her,  to  coax  the  old  light  back,  but  the  deepen- 
ing lines  about  her  mouth,  the  close  pressure  of  the 
lips,  that  said  as  plainly  as  words  could  have  done  that 
madam's  heart  was  cold  as  well  as  sore,  awakened  all 
the  antagonism  in  her.  She  wanted  to  hurl  defiance  at 
those  set  lips,  and  the  judgment  they  embodied.  Be- 
tween the  conflicting  emotions  she  hovered  about  madam, 
sometimes  exhibiting  flashes  of  temper  which  madam 
was  at  no  loss  to  interpret,  but  more  often  allowing  the 
pitying  love  to  master  the  upspringing  opposition,  and 
show  itself  in  tender  care  that  made  madam  depend 
upon  her  more  than  ever. 

Geysbert  had  not  found  his  plan  work  quite  as  he 
had  expected.  He  had  none  of  those  arguments  with 
Aveline  for  which  he  had  prepared  himself  while  yet  in 
New  York.  When  he  first  spoke  of  his  brother,  she 
fixed  her  eyes  inquiringly  upon  him,  and  listened,  now 
and  then  throwing  out  a  question  that  broke  the  thread 


290  FREE    TO    SERVE 

of  his  recital,  or  uttering  a  word  or  two  of  comment, 
always  at  a  point  where  there  was  a  flaw  in  the  argu- 
ment, or  where  he  had  unconsciously  betrayed  his  own 
lack  of  earnestness  in  his  brother's  cause.  But  when  he 
had  told  all,  she  had  nothing  to  say.  It  was  Probity 
who  spoke  pitying  words  of  Helmer,  and  counselled 
charity. 

"  Alas,  the  heart  of  man  is  sadly  deceitful,"  she  said. 
"  It  surely  becomes  us  to  be  pitiful  towards  the  sinner. 
My  poor  cousin  has  but  followed  the  guidance  of  an 
unregenerate  heart,  and  now,  I  doubt  not,  he  is  finding 
that  the  way  of  transgressors  is  hard." 

"To  which  of  your  cousins  do  you  refer?"  asked 
Aveline,  with  a  heightened  colour  on  her  cheeks. 

Probity  turned  a  calm,  surprised  gaze  upon  her. 

"My  dear  child,  what  does  your  question  mean?" 
she  asked. 

"  Nothing,  to  you,"  replied  Aveline,  looking  past 
Probity  to  Geysbert. 

He  uttered  an  exclamation  that  was  not  polite,  and 
departed   hastily. 

As  time  passed,  he  had  none  of  those  quiet  talks  with 
Aveline  to  which  he  had  looked  forward.  If  he  had 
inflicted  wounds  upon  her  heart,  he  was  not  called  upon 
to  bind  them  up. 

"  You  may  believe  what  you  like,"  she  said,  "  under- 
stand me —  what  you  like  —  about  Helmer.  You  have 
found  out  nothing  that  necessarily  criminates  him.  You 
have  simply  listened  to  his  enemies.  To  one  who  knows 
him  your  words  are  empty.  You  do  not  know  him  — 
nor  yourself" 

The  last  two  words  were  uttered  very  distinctly,  and 
made  Geysbert  bite  his  lip,  and  look  at  her  as  if  he 
would  have  liked  to  do  something  more  than  look. 

There  was  only  one  person  before  whom  Aveline 
quailed,  and  that  was  Arent  Hooghland.     One  part  of 


FREE   TO    SERVE  291 

his  mission  had  been  accomplished  before  he  left  New 
York.  He  had  buried  his  son  Myndert.  The  other 
part,  the  thought  of  which  made  Aveline's  heart  beat 
with  fear  every  time  she  encountered  him,  he  was  yet 
watching  and  waiting  to  fulfil. 

"  I've  come  back  to  keep  guard  over  the  Feljers  till 
I've  hunted  one  of  them  to  the  ground,"  he  announced, 
when  he  returned  to  his  farm. 

Aveline  never  saw  him  without  a  cold  horror  steal- 
ing into  her  heart.  It  was  the  thought  of  him  that 
turned  her  cheek  pale  when  Tyte  spoke  of  Helmer. 
What  did  the  boy  know?  Was  Helmer  near,  and  in 
danger? 

She  hastened  homeward,  avoiding  the  bank  where 
Tyte  might  yet  be  in  hiding.  Not  ten  minutes  after 
she  had  entered,  a  negro  came  to  summon  her. 

"  That  Tyte  say  you  want  him,  missy." 

"  Yes,  I  left  word  for  him  to  come.  I  want  him  to 
fetch  something  for  me.     Send  him  up  here." 

Aveline  disappeared  in  her  own  room  as  she  spoke, 
and  waited  until  the  solemn  face  of  Tyte  appeared  at 
the  door. 

"  Come  in,  Tyte.  I  want  you  to  go  to  the  barn  with 
a  message  for  me,"  she  said. 

Tyte  came  in  cautiously,  the  importance  of  the  news 
he  had  to  communicate  proving  almost  too  much  for 
the  steadiness  of  his  legs. 

"  Shut  the  door,  and  come  over  here." 

Tyte  obeyed. 

"  Now !  " 

"  Missy  Av'line,  hes  never  disappeared  same  as  dey 
say.  He  write  letters  to  Mars'r  Geysbert,  and  Mars'r 
Geysbert  write  to  him." 

Aveline  stared  at  him. 

"  How  do  you  know?  "  she  asked  at  last. 

"  Big  Injun  bring  de  letter,  and   tell  Mars'r  Geysbert 


292  FREE   TO    SERVE 

he  want  to  know  why  dere  no  more  letter  dan  one  last 
time  he  send." 

"  How  do  you  know  this,  boy?  " 

Aveline's  hand  grasped  Tyte's  shoulder.  Tyte  fairly 
trembled  with  eagerness  and  importance.  His  eyes 
grew  bigger  than  ever. 

"  Dis  boy  out  in  de  forest,"  he  said  slowly,  "  'way  out. 
Den  dis  boy  see  Mars'r  Geysbert  comin'   and  hide." 

"What  for?"  interposed  Aveline. 

"  Mars'r  Geysbert  kick  dis  boy  once  for  bein'  out 
dere.     Want  no  more  kicks." 

"Well?     What  then?" 

The  hand  that  pressed  Tyte's  shoulder  was  not  very 
steady. 

"  Den  Mars'r  Geysbert  whistle,  low  and  soft  like,  and 
de  forest  all  still  as  night,  and  dere  never  a  sound." 

Tyte  stopped  impressively. 

"Yes?" 

"  And  he  whistle  again.  Den  out  in  de  forest,  long  way 
off,  someting  else  whistle,  and  Mars'r  Geysbert  he  stan' 
still  and  wait.  Den  no  sound  at  all  till  big  Injun  come 
out  from  behind  a  tree,  right  'fore  Mars'r  Geysbert,  and 
Stan'  and  look  at  him,  and  Mars'r  Geysbert  look  at  him." 

Aveline's  hold  tightened.  The  boy  felt  it,  and  his 
eyes  rolled   in  response. 

"  Injun  take  out  packet,  and  give  Mars'r  Geysbert," 
he  continued,  "  and  say  —  '  De  white  broder  say  only 
one  packet  'stead  of  two,  last  time ;  he  'spect  two,  and 
say  I  lose  one.'  Den  Mars'r  Geysbert  swear,  and  tell 
him  to  hold  his  tongue,  and  carry  what  he  get." 

"Tyte,  are  you  sure  you  heard  all  this?  You  are 
speaking  the  truth?" 

Aveline's  voice  trembled  as  she  asked  the  question. 

"  Missy,  I  sure  enough,"  replied  Tyte  solemnly.  "  I 
close  to  Mars'r  Geysbert  in  a  big  hole  behind  de  snow." 

"  Go  on  then.     What  did  Geysbert  do?  " 


FREE   TO   SERVE  293 

Unconsciously  she  dropped  the  "  Mr,,"  forgetting  to 
whom  she  was  speaking. 

"  Mars'r  Geysbert  open  de  packet  and  look,  and  den 
say  —  'To-night,  when  de  moon  is  down,'  and  de  Injun 
turn  and  lose  him  in  de  forest." 

Tyte  paused,  his  face  upturned  to  Aveline's,  and  his 
eyes  staring  into  hers.  She  stood  over  him,  waiting 
almost  breathlessly. 

"  What  then?"  she  asked. 

"  Den  Mars'r  Geysbert  read,  and  he  swear  again  and 
say —  '  Your  anxious  broder  Helmer  !  I  vow,  by  all  you 
hold  dear,  you  no  broder  of  mine.'  " 

Aveline's  face  was  pale,  but  her  eyes  flashed. 
-     "  Is  that  all?  "  she  said. 

"  Yes,  missy." 

Tyte  was  awed  by  the  effect  of  his  words.  The  girl's 
hand  still  grasped  his  shoulder.  There  was  a  long  silence. 
When  she  spoke,  it  was  in  a  low,  impressive  voice. 

"Tyte,  do  you  love  Mr.  Helmer?  "  she  asked. 

"  Missy,  I  does!' 

"  Then,  boy,  never  let  a  word  of  this  come  out  of 
your  mouth  again.  Better  bite  your  tongue  out  than 
tell  to  any  one  else  what  you  have  told   me." 

"  Dis  boy  tink  missy  want  to  know."  Tyte's  tone 
was  crestfallen.     It  aroused  Aveline. 

"Tyte,"  she  said,  "you  have  done  Mr.  Helmer  a 
kindness  to-day  that  he  will  never  forget.  But  you  do 
not  know  the  danger.  Tyte,  his  life  depends  on  keep- 
ing quiet." 

"  Dis  boy  never  talk,"  said  Tyte. 

"  Not  to  any  one?  " 

"  Not  to  nobody.  He  bite  his  tongue  out  first,  as 
missy  say." 

"  Very  well.  I  trust  you,  Tyte.  Remember,  you  and 
I  have  a  secret  we  must  never  tell.  And  we  must  not 
even  let  any  one  know  we  have  a  secret.      Go  away  and 


294  FREE   TO    SERVE 

forget  it.  And  Tyte  !  Don't  go  into  the  forest  again. 
Mr.  Geysbert  might  see  you   next  time." 

Tyte's  face  fell. 

"  It  is  for  Mr.  Helmer  I  ask,"  said  Aveline  gently. 

"  Dis  boy  won't  go  no  more." 

"  Thank  you.     You  are  Mr.  Helmer's  own  boy." 

He  beamed  on  her. 

"Now  tell  me  exactly  where  you  saw  the  big  Indian." 

When  Tyte  walked  slowly  away  to  the  barn  he  was 
too  full  of  importance  to  caper. 

"  Mars'r  Helmer's  boy !  Course  I  am,"  he  said  to 
himself,  but  he  pressed  his  lips  together,  that  no  sound 
should  escape. 

"  Geysbert,  does  madam's  face  never  reproach  you 
that  you  have  taken  no  further  steps  to  bring  her  news 
of  her  younger  son?" 

Aveline  had  met  Geysbert  in  the  hall,  just  where  the 
light  fell  best  on  his  face.  She  stood  and  studied  it  as 
she  spoke.      He  changed  colour  perceptibly. 

"  You  are  unjust,"  he  said.  "  You  have  ever  been 
that  to  me." 

"Am  I?" 

He  looked  at  her  for  a  moment.  Then  he  caught 
her  arm. 

"  Aye,  you  are,"  he  said.  "  You  are  the  last  to  hold 
out.      My  mother  believes  me,  but  you  —  " 

"  Yes,  she  believes  you  —  more's  the  pity." 

He  released  her  quickly,  flinging  her  arm  from  him. 
She  did  not  move. 

"  Have  you  never  learned  aught  else  of  him?"  she 
asked. 

He  looked  at  her  sharply. 

"  I  have  never  left  the  manor  house.  My  duty  was 
here,"  he  said. 

"  True,"  she  answered,  and  then  moved  aside,  and 
let  him  pass.     He  went  away  with  a  scowl  on  his  face. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  295 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

THE  moon  was  not  down,  nor  would  be  for  an 
hour.  The  wind,  sweeping  through  the  bare 
branches  of  the  trees,  was  responsible  for  the 
bewildering  commotion  among  the  shadows  of  the 
forest.  Yet  it  was  not  to  be  credited  with  all  the  move- 
ment. There  was  a  shadow  that  advanced  independ- 
ently, starting  from  the  outermost  rim  of  the  forest,  and 
moving  inward  till  it  fell  over  a  hole  left  by  an  uprooted 
tree.  The  root  of  the  tree  yet  lay  upheaved  towards 
the  track  by  which  the  solid  body  pertaining  to  the 
shadow  had  penetrated,  and  against  it  was  piled  a 
sheltering  bank  of  snow.  It  was  white,  unsullied  snow, 
frozen  hard  enough  to  bear  the  light  figure  that  stepped 
cautiously  upon  it.  There  were  prints  in  which  the 
intruder  might  set  foot,  the  marks  of  Tyte's  blundering 
feet  when  he  darted  from  the  track  to  hide  from  •'  Mars'r 
Geysbert."  Aveline  looked  at  them,  nodded  decisively, 
and  trusted  herself  to  their  guidance.  They  landed  her 
in  a  spot  well  out  of  sight  of  the  path  by  which  she  had 
come,  and  by  which,  in  all  probability,  Geysbert  would 
come. 

Even  the  trained  eye  of  an  Indian  might  be  excused 
if  it  missed  the  figure  that  was  white  as  the  covering  of 
the  forest  in  winter,  and  that  sank  into  the  snow  depths 
and  waited  motionless.  Lying  there  in  the  snow  Ave- 
line seemed  part  of  it,  for  not  even  her  head  was  an 
exception  to  the  general  whiteness  she  had  assumed. 
She  wanted  to  be  free  to  listen  and  plan  without  fear  of 
detection. 

Her  heart  was  in  a  tumult,  though  it  is  fair  to  say 
that  anger  was  the  predominating  feeling.     The  thought 


296  FREE   TO    SERVE 

of  madam's  stricken  face,  and  Helmer's  weary  waiting 
for  letters  that  never  came,  made  the  anger  fairly  blaze. 
She  would  have  liked  to  confront  Geysbert  with  his 
deceit,  but  such  a  proceeding  was  not  safe.  Helmer's 
life  was  in  danger,  and  until  she  knew  just  how  far  that 
life  was  in  Geysbert's  power  she  must  move  cautiously. 
That  Madam  Feljer's  elder  son  was  capable  of  treach- 
ery she  had  long  believed.  That  he  was  guilty  of  treach- 
ery she  had  sometimes  suspected,  but  of  the  extent  of 
the  treachery  she  had  not  dreamed.  Now,  justly 
or  unjustly,  she  classed  him  and  Arent  Hooghland  to- 
gether. 

The  moon  descended  slowly,  and  the  wind  rattled 
the  branches  overhead.  Aveline  shivered  and  cowered 
lower.  It  was  lonely  and  desolate  here  in  the  forest. 
She  was  oppressed  with  a  feeling  of  the  bare  coldness 
of  the  world.  Somewhere  in  that  cold  world  Helmer  was 
a  wanderer,  and  at  home,  in  the  warmth  of  the  manor 
house,  the  chill  yet  penetrated  to  madam's  heart. 

The  minutes  were  very  long,  and  the  stillness  was 
calculated  to  work  havoc  with  a  watcher's  nerves. 
There  may  have  been  stealthy  wild  creatures  creeping 
over  the  snow  about  her,  but  Aveline  did  not  hear  them. 
It  seemed  to  her  that  she  and  the  wind  were  alone.  So 
perfect  was  the  stillness  that  when,  without  warning, 
there  came  a  light  touch  on  her  head,  she  started  up 
with  a  low  cry.  A  dark  face  was  above  her,  and  eyes, 
searching  and  inscrutable,  looked  down  at  her. 

"  What  is  the  sister  of  the  snow  seeking  in  the  forest 
at  night?  "  said  the  Indian,  in  a  deep  voice,  his  tongue 
giving  her  the  name  her  appearance  suggested. 

"  The  shelter  of  the  white  snow,"  she  replied  truth- 
fully. 

He  looked  at  her  and  grunted.  Aveline's  startled 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  him,  as  if  fascinated.  Was  this 
the  Indian  for  whom  she  was  waiting? 


FREE   TO    SERVE  297 

"  The  shelter  of  the  snow  is  cold,"  he  said. 

"  But  the  spirit  of  the  sister  of  the  snow  is  warm,"  she 
answered,  "  warmer  in  the  forest  than  under  the  white 
man's  roof,  for  somewhere,  where  the  snow  lies  unbroken, 
is  the  white  brother  whose  thought  is  of  her,  and  of  the 
packet  she  would  send  to  him  if  the  wings  of  the  wind 
knew  whither  to  carry  it." 

She  looked  at  him  as  closely  as  the  uncertain  light 
would  permit.     His  face  appeared  unchanged. 

"  From  whence  comes  the  sister  of  the  snow?"  he 
asked. 

"  From  the  Feljer  manor  house,  upon  the  hill." 

He  grunted  again. 

"Does  the  white  brother  desire  the  packet?"  he 
asked. 

"  Yes.     He  has  waited  for  it  long." 

The  Indian  held  out  his  hand. 

"  It  shall  talk  to  him  of  the  sister  waiting  in  the  snow," 
he  said, 

"  Stop  !  "  said  Aveline  quickly.  "  None  save  the 
white  brother  himself  must  know  that  it  is  sent.  Only 
the  sister  of  the  snow,  and  the  white  brother,  and  — the 
wings  of  the  wind  —  must  know." 

"  The  wind  whispers  no  secrets,"  said  the  Indian. 

Still  she  hesitated.  She  could  no  longer  see  the 
Indian's  face.  The  moon  had  dipped  behind  a  hill, 
and  the  forest  was  dark. 

"  Does  the  sister  of  the  snow  desire  that  any  from  the 
house  on  the  hill  should  know  she  sought  the  shelter  of 
the  forest?  "  questioned  the  Indian. 

"  No,  oh,  no  !  "  replied  Aveline  quickly. 

"  Then  let  her  lie  still  as  the  moonlight  on  the  snow," 
he  said,  and  before  she  understood  what  he  meant  she 
saw  his  dark  figure  upon  the  path  beyond. 

Then  there  came  a  low  whistle,  and  Aveline's  heart 
beat  loudly.     In  spite  of  her  fear,  she  lifted  her  head. 


298  FREE   TO   SERVE 

Against  the  white  snow  she  saw  what  might  be  two 
figures.     Her  ears  served  her  better  than  her  eyes. 

"  Ah,  you  are  waiting.  It  is  well.  Here  is  your 
packet.  Take  it  to  the  white  brother,  and  this  is  to 
reward  you  for  your  pains." 

There  was  no  mistaking  Geysbert's  voice. 

"  Next  moon  I  shall  look  for  you  again,"  he  said,  and 
the  Indian's  answer  was  too  low  to  reach  Aveline's  ears. 
She  heard  Geysbert's  response. 

"  It  is  all  he'll  get.  If  he  be  not  satisfied,  it  is  more 
than  he  deserves.  Tell  him  so,  if  so  be  you  can  remem- 
ber the  message." 

It  took  all  the  self-control  of  which  she  was  capable 
to  prevent  Aveline  from  springing  up  and  confronting 
the  speaker.  Her  breath  came  in  short  gasps.  She  was 
far  from  obeying  the  Indian's  injunction  to  be  as  noise- 
less as  the  moonlight  on  the  snow. 

Luckily,  Geysbert  was  thinking  only  of  his  own  part 
of  the  performance,  and  when  that  was  accomplished 
he  turned  on  his  heel,  and  made  straight  for  the  manor 
house.  The  Indian  disappeared  at  the  same  moment. 
Had  he  forsaken  her?  Aveline  waited  and  listened. 
Then  she  raised  herself  from  the  snow  and  uttered  a 
low  cooing  cry,  somewhat  resembling  the  note  of  a  wild 
pigeon.  It  was  always  Helmer's  signal  to  her  when 
they  wandered  through  the  forest.  Low  as  it  was,  it 
had  scarcely  left  her  lips  when  a  shrill  squeal,  so  indic- 
ative of  some  wild  creature  of  the  forest  that  she  turned 
her  head  sharply,  sounded  near  at  hand.  She  dropped 
back  and  lay  quite  still. 

"  Will  the  white  squaw  trust  her  packet  to  the  wings 
of  the  wind?  " 

Again  the  Indian  was  by  her  side,  though  she  had 
not  seen  him  come. 

She  drew  it  forth,  and  at  the  same  time  proffered  a 
string  of  wampum. 


FREE   TO   SERVE  299 

"You  will  deliver  it  into  his  own  hand?"  she  said. 

"  Into  his  and  no  other,"  replied  the  Indian. 

Geysbert  had  been  back  at  the  manor  house  for 
fully  an  hour  when  Aveline  crept  up  to  her  room,  shiv- 
ering and  excited.  The  white  clothing  was  covered 
now  with  a  dark  mantle,  but  she  was  none  the  less 
relieved  that  she  had  encountered  no  one. 

Aveline's  eyes  were  bright,  and  there  was  hope  in  her 
heart.  Her  letter  was  even  now  on  its  way  to  Helmer. 
She  did  not  need  to  ask  herself  how  it  would  be  received. 
When  the  answer  came  she  might  be  in  a  position  to 
give  Geysbert  a  taste  of  the  scorn  that  was  burning  to 
reveal  itself.  She  was  certain  now  that  Helmer  knew 
as  little  how  matters  stood  at  the  manor  house  as  the 
inhabitants  of  the  manor  house  knew  how  it  fared  with 
him.  When  he  knew  all,  who  could  tell  what  the  result 
would  be? 


300  FREE  TO   SERVE 


T 


CHAPTER   XXX 

IHE  upspringing  of  a  great  hope  is  as  peace- 
destroying  as  the  crushing  weight  of  a  mighty 
sorrow.  The  heart  lifts  itself  to  meet  the  possible 
joy,  ruthlessly  overturning,  by  that  one  impulse,  the 
gentle  virtues  that  patience  has  zealously  fostered. 
The  upheaval  in  Aveline's  heart  was  all  the  more  vio- 
lent for  the  restraints  she  had  laid  upon  herself.  For 
madam's  sake  she  had  put  her  tongue  in  fetters,  for  it 
tried  her  as  much  to  hear  Helmer  defended  as  to  listen 
while  any  condemned  him. 

"  If  he  had  been  innocent  he  would  have  found  some 
means  of  communicating  with  me,"  madam  said.  "  He 
has  not  done  so.     There  is  but  one  inference." 

And  to  all  Aveline's  hot  words  of  protest  she  opposed 
the  answer  of  those  tightly  pressed,  silent  lips.  Once, 
when  the  girl's  excitement  caused  her  to  go  further  than 
usual,  she  said : 

"  My  child,  the  flame  of  indignation  keeps  the  young 
heart  warm,  but  the  old  heart  is  scorched  by  it.  Spare 
me,  child.     I  am  old,  and  sorrow  has  not  spared  me." 

Aveline  could  do  no  less  than  seek  to  soothe  her  by 
obeying  her  commands.  The  girl  had  grown  very 
tender  towards  madam,  though  at  heart  she  cried  out 
against  her  decision.  Now,  with  this  rising  up  of  hope 
within  her,  it  was  harder  than  ever  to  keep  silence,  to  be 
calm  and  still  in  madam's  presence.  She  was  possessed 
by  a  restlessness  she  could  not  control. 

"  Child,  what  ails  you?  The  very  spirit  of  unrest 
seems  to  have  taken  possession  of  you,"  madam  said. 

Aveline  looked  at  her  for  a  moment,  and  the  tears 
welled  up  in  her  eyes. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  301 

"  I  think  it  has,"  she  said. 

Madam  did  not  turn  away  and  busy  herself  with  her 
knitting,  as  she  often  did  when  Aveline's  impetuosity 
overstepped  the  bounds  which  madam  had  set  about 
herself  and  those  who  were  with  her.  She  looked  at  the 
girl  long  and  kindly,  and  her  own  eyes  grew  dim. 

"  Keep  your  faith,  if  you  can,"  she  said,  breaking  the 
silence.  "  A  groundless  faith  is  a  poor  prop,  but  it  is 
better  than  none." 

And  Aveline  could  not  tell  her  of  the  new  hope  in  her 
heart.  It  would  be  cruelty  to  speak  of  the  treachery  of 
her  elder  son  until  she  could  assure  her  of  the  innocence 
of  the  younger. 

"  Patience,  patience,"  whispered  the  girl  to  herself, 
"  In  fourteen  days  the  answer  will  come.  It  will,  for 
Helmer  will  not  fail  her,  now  he  knows." 

She  turned  on  madam  an  April-day  smile,  more  than 
half  tears. 

"  If  the  prop  should  prove  to  be  well  grounded,  even 
the  faithless  may  yet  cling  to  it,"  she  said. 

After  that  she  tried  to  school  her  face  to  tell  no  more 
tales.  For  fourteen  days  she  must  awaken  neither  hope 
nor  fear,  however  much  she  herself  was  distracted  by 
such  emotions.  Madam  must  not  be  distressed.  Ave- 
line did  not  hide  the  truth  from  herself.  The  letter 
Geysbert  sent  from  New  York  had  done  what  the  fever 
could  not  do.  Madam's  stout  heart  had  succumbed 
before  the  news  it  brought,  and  there  was  no  more 
strength  in  it  for  the  conflict  of  hope  and  fear.  She  had 
loved  both  her  boys,  but  she  had  trusted  Helmer  as  she 
had  never  trusted  Geysbert.  And  he  had  failed  her. 
It  was  a  blow  from  which  she  could  not  recover.  Her 
hold  on  life  gave  way.  She  was  not  ill,  but  she  had 
grown  suddenly  old. 

Geysbert  seemed  more  than  usually  bold  and  self- 
assertive  in  the  days  which  followed  that  stolen  journey 


302  FREE   TO    SERVE 

to  the  forest.  He  was  gathering  up  the  reins  more 
tightly  into  his  own  hands.  His  mother  left  everything 
to  him  now,  and  on  his  part  he  treated  her  with  a  tender 
consideration  that  could  not  but  be  soothing  to  her. 
Her  elder  son  had  never  been  so  attentive,  so  thought- 
ful of  her  wishes,  as  now  that  the  younger  had  for- 
saken her,  and  gone  out  into  the  world  a  wanderer. 
Outside,  however,  he  allowed  his  hand  to  be  felt. 

"  Mr.  Geysbert  has  a  mind  to  be  master  over  his 
brother's  inheritance  as  well  as  his  own,"  remarked 
Ryseck  Schredel  to  her  husband.  "  I  thought  he  was 
to  content  himself  with  his  big  new  possession  near 
by  the  city,  and  leave  the  old  home  to  Mr.  Helmer." 

"  It's  nothing  less  than  all  there  is  to  have  that  will 
content  him  in  these  days,"  said  Philip,  between  the 
long  puffs  at  his  pipe.  "  He's  got  his  hand  on  the  lot, 
maidens  and  all,  and  it'll  go  hard  with  him  if  he  take 
not  his  pick." 

"  Aye,  and  there'll  be  but  a  sorry  picking  left  for  the 
other,  when  his  pick  has  been  taken,"  said  Ryseck. 

To  meet  Geysbert  with  a  semblance  of  friendliness 
was  the  hardest  thing  in  each  of  Aveline's  days.  For 
madam's  sake  she  did  it,  but  when  madam  retired  to 
her  own  room,  as  she  so  often  did  now,  Aveline's  face 
grew  hard,  and  her  tone  uncompromising.  The  change 
in  her  was  not  unnoticed  by  Geysbert,  or  by  Probity,  but 
both  held  their  peace.  Only  in  Geysbert's  heart  there 
was  growing  a  deeper  bitterness,  that  took  in,  not  his 
brother  only,  but  this  girl  whom  he  loved  in  spite  of 
her  defiance  of  him.  He  was  as  desperately  angry 
with  her  as  he  was  in  love  with  her.  Once  or  twice, 
when  she  met  him  with  a  more  than  usually  pronounced 
rebuff,  his  eyes  gleamed  dangerously.  Aveline  did  not 
notice  them.  She  was  thinking  of  his  discomfiture 
when  the  fourteen  days  were  over,  and  she  was  at  lib- 
erty to  do  more  than  merely  discourage  his  advances. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  303 

She  wanted  to  tell  him  plainly  what  she  thought  of  him, 
to  let  her  contempt  have  full  scope.  At  least  she  would 
have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  flush  of  shame  on  his 
cheek.  She  did  not  rightly  know  what  she  expected 
as  a  result  of  her  letter  to  Helmer.  If  it  should  bring 
complete  deliverance  from  the  sorrow  and  suspense 
that  were  overshadowing  the  manor  house,  she  would 
not  be  surprised.  In  any  case  it  would  bring  news  of 
Helmer,  reliable  news,  and  that  message  for  his  mother, 
for  the  want  of  which  she  had  come  to  think  him 
guilty.  So  much  was  certain,  for  she  had  told  him  all 
—  Geysbert's  report,  his  conclusion  that  his  brother 
was  guilty,  madam's  hopeless  sorrow,  and  Arent 
Hooghland's  watchful  hatred.  And  she  had  promised 
to  be  in  the  same  spot  in  the  forest  on  the  fourteenth 
night  from  the  sending  of  her  letter.  She  had  no  fear 
that  Helmer  would  fail  her. 

Perhaps  returning  hope  quickened  Aveline's  sight,  or 
it  may  have  been  that  each  day  as  it  passed  told  appre- 
ciably on  madam's  resources.  To  Aveline  it  seemed 
that  the  fourteen  days  had  marked  a  definite  change,  a 
lessening  of  her  hold  on  the  things  of  life.  Bit  by  bit 
she  had  given  up  the  responsibilities  of  the  household, 
leaving  more  and  more  to  the  two  girls.  Now  she 
neglected  even  the  supervision  of  affairs,  and  in  the  last 
week  Aveline  noticed  that  she  seldom  asked  questions. 

"  Do  your  own  way,  dear  child,  I  have  no  doubt  it 
will  be  right,"  she  said,  when  Aveline  appealed  to  her 
for  directions. 

There  was  suppressed  excitement  about  the  girl 
when,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  fourteenth  day,  she 
stooped  suddenly  and  kissed  madam's  cheek.  She  did 
it  in  passing,  and  would  have  gone  on,  but  madam's 
hand  detained  her. 

"  You  may  be  right,  child,"  she  said. 

"  Madam,  I  am  right." 


304  FREE   TO    SERVE 

There  was  a  light  in  Avehne's  eyes.  Madam  sighed 
and  released  her. 

"  Madam,"  said  Aveline  later  on,  when  the  daylight 
had  faded,  and  the  tall  candles  in  the  big  sconces  gave 
a  subdued  light  in  the  large  room,  "  I  have  finished  the 
apron  upon  which  I  was  working,  and  which  I  had 
designed  for  Ryseck  Schredel.  If  you  do  not  object,  I 
will  carry  it  to  her  to-night,  and  talk  with  her  awhile." 

"  Aye,  go  if  you  will,"  said  madam.  "  Ryseck's 
words  are  strong,  but  her  heart  is  right,  and  she  and 
you  will  not  quarrel." 

For  a  moment  a  little  of  the  old  light  was  in  madam's 
eye  as  she  looked  at  the  girl. 

"  No,  we  shall  not  quarrel,"  said  Aveline.  "  Ryseck 
is  a  woman  of  discernment." 

But,  woman  of  discernment  though  she  was,  Aveline 
did  not  stay  long  with  her  on  that  occasion.  She  was 
so  full  of  impatience  that  the  five  minutes  she  spent  in 
the  good  woman's  cottage  were  a  sore  trial  to  her.  The 
walk  in  the  forest  was  before  her,  and  the  triumph  to 
succeed  it.  For  it  would  be  a  triumph  over  Geysbert 
in  any  case,  of  that  she  felt  sure. 

There  was  no  denying  that  she  shrank  from  plung- 
ing into  the  darkness  under  the  trees.  The  night  was 
cloudy,  and  there  was  no  moon.  Prowling  wild  beasts 
were  undoubtedly  in  the  thickets  beyond,  and  the  danger 
of  losing  her  way  was  not  small.  She  knew  the  forest 
a  little,  having  often  come  to  it  with  Helmer,  who 
delighted  in  teaching  her  woodcraft ;  but  in  the  dark- 
ness the  path  looked  unfamiliar. 

Outside  the  wood  the  snow  was  going  fast,  but 
within,  among  the  trees,  it  yet  held  its  own.  More  than 
once,  in  that  walk,  Aveline  grew  bewildered,  and  feared 
that  she  had  missed  her  way.  If  she  failed  to  reach  the 
appointed  spot,  all  would  be  lost,  and  Helmer  would 
think  she  had  failed  him.    Once  or  twice  a  sudden  rush- 


FREE   TO    SERVE  305 

ing  sound  close  by  her  side  made  her  stand  still  in 
quick  alarm.  There  was  so  little  light  that  she  could 
not  tell  what  creature  was  near.  Was  she  in  the  path 
at  all?  Surely  not,  or  she  would  have  reached  her 
hiding  place  before  this.  It  had  taken  her  hours  longer 
to  come  than  on  the  former  occasion  —  or  she  thought 
it  had. 

What  news  awaited  her  at  the  end?  Suppose  it 
should  be  ill  news,  after  all?  She  shook  off  her  fear. 
It  unnerved  her. 

Would  there  ever  be  an  end?  That  was  more  to  the 
point.     Where  was  she?     Could  it  be  that  she  — 

The  question  was  not  finished.  She  stumbled  for- 
ward into  a  deep  hole,  left  by  an  uprooted  tree.  Then, 
half-stunned,  she  partly  raised  herself  from  the  ground, 
and  immediately  gave  vent  to  a  low,  glad  laugh,  the 
outward  sign  of  pressure  on  excited  nerves.  She  had 
fallen  into  her  appointed  waiting  place.  The  object  in 
front  of  her  was  no  other  than  Tyte's  fallen  tree.  Now 
she  was  safe.     She  had  but  to  wait  for  the  message. 

Hark!  What  was  that?  The  low  cooing  of  a 
pigeon.  She  did  not  stop  to  think  —  nor  to  fear. 
She  gave  a  quick  answer.  She  stood  up,  trembling, 
but  not  with  terror.  That  was  not  the  voice  of  the 
Indian.  Dozens  of  times  that  low  call  had  come  to  her 
in  the  forest.  It  was  Helmer's  own  signal,  and  —  that 
was  Helmer's  voice. 

"  AveHne!     My  darhng  !  " 

Both  hands  were  in  his,  and  he  had  bent  his  head  till 
his  lips  met  hers. 

"Oh,  Helmer!  I  have  wanted  —  we  have  wanted 
you  so  !  " 

She  heard  the  quick  heavy  breathing,  and  felt  the 
pressure  of  his  hands, 

"  Help  me,  dear,"  he  said.  "  It  is  hard  to  remember 
that  he  is  my  brother." 


3o6  FREE   TO   SERVE 

That  appeal  brought  Avehne  to  a  consciousness  of  all 
that  was  at  stake,  and  of  the  responsibilities  of  that  hour. 

"  We  must  not  forget —  for  madam's  sake,"  she  said. 
"  Oh,  Helmer,  we  must  make  her  understand." 

"  Understand  what,  dear?  " 

"Why,  that  you  could  not  do  what  they  said." 

"  Bless  you  for  your  trust,"  he  said.  "  If  you  had 
asked  whether  or  not  I  was  innocent,  I  think  I  could 
not  have  borne  it." 

"Why  should  I  ask  about  what  I  know  already?" 
replied  Aveline.  "  But  I  want  to  know  why  you  cannot 
prove  it.     I  —  Helmer,  it  seems  cowardly  to  run  away." 

"  Many  a  time  I  have  been  on  the  point  of  returning," 
he  said,  "  but  the  case  is  black  against  me,  and  Geys- 
bert  warned  me  to  keep  away  at  any  cost.  I  waited  to 
hear  what  my  mother  would  say.  I  have  sent  letter 
after  letter." 

"  And  he  destroyed  them  all.     How  dare  he  —  " 

"  Hush,  dear !  Probity  would  say  that  there  was 
danger  in  letting  our  angry  passions  loose." 

Aveline  could  feel  the  smile,  though  she  did  not  see 
it.     She  drew  closer  to  him.     He  put  his  arm  about  her. 

"  If  this  had  not  happened,  would  you  ever  have 
come  to  me  thus?"  he  said.  "  I  may  not  ask  it  now, 
but  —  " 

"  If  you  will  not  take  it  now,  you — you  could  not 
have  cared  enough  about  it  to  have  had  a  right  to  it 
then,"  she  said,  half  tearfully,  half  defiantly. 

"  Avehne  !  " 

They  both  forgot  the  night,  and  the  suspicion  that 
hung  over  one  of  them,  and  the  dangers  ahead.  There 
was  no  loneliness  for  Aveline  in  the  forest  now,  and  she 
did  not  know  that  the  wind  blew  coldly.  As  for  Hel- 
mer, he  was  content.  Aveline  believed  in  him,  Aveline 
was  his,  now  and  always.  No  !  He  drew  himself  up  to 
his  full  height,  and  his  hold  relaxed. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  307 

"  It  is  very  sweet,"  he  said,  "  but  it  must  not  be,  at 
least  until  all  the  world  acknowledges  that  I  am  worthy 
of  you." 

"  I  am  not  going  to  ask  all  the  world,"  she  said. 

And  he  —  well,  he  had  just  made  a  very  virtuous 
resolve,  but  who  could  expect  that  hps  which  spoke 
such  words  would  be  resisted? 

"  And  you  would  give  yourself  to  me  as  I  am  —  a 
suspected  murderer?"  he  asked  tenderly. 

"That  way,  or  none,"  she  said  decidedly. 

It  was  a  long,  sweeping  gust  of  wind  that  awoke 
Helmer  from  the  forgetfulness  of  that  hour. 

"  I  am  selfish,"  he  said.     "  Tell  me  about  my  mother." 

Aveline's  voice  trembled  as  she  obeyed,  and  before 
the  story  was  finished,  her  head  was  on  his  shoulder, 
and  her  voice  was  broken  with  tears.  A  big  warm  drop 
came  splashing  on  her  forehead. 

"  Poor  little  mother  !  "  Helmer's  voice  was  choked. 
"  I  must  go  to  her.  And  yet  it  must  be  done  cau- 
tiously, for  —  Geysbert  is  not  to  be  trusted.  And  for 
her  sake  we  must  risk  as  little  as  possible." 

"What  have  you  to  fear  from  Geysbert?"  asked 
Aveline.     "What  evidence  is  there  against  you?" 

Then  he  told  her  all,  and  she  stood  silently  listen- 
ing. 

"  The  negro  himself  is  the  murderer,"  she  said. 
"There  was  no  other  to  do  it." 

"  It  seems  as  if  it  must  be  so,"  he  replied.  "  But  how 
to  prove  it?  I  cannot  expect  to  secure  the  evidence  of 
the  boat's  crew.  To  appeal  to  them  would  be  to  in- 
volve them  in  difficulty.  And  they  think  me  guilty,  in 
any  case." 

"  Then  we  must  wait,  and  watch  the  negro,"  said  Ave- 
line.    "  His  past  should  be  hunted  up." 

"Why,  you  are  a  splendid  little  counsellor,"  said 
Helmer.     "  I  thought  of  that  myself,  and  wrote  to  Geys- 


3o8  FREE   TO    SERVE 

bert  about  it,  but  he  returned  no  answer  to  that  part  of 
my  letter.     He  beheves  me  guilty." 

"  Yes." 

The  one  word  was  so  expressive  that  no  other  was 
needed. 

"  And  now,  dear,  when  do  you  think  I  can  see  my 
mother?  "  asked  Helmer  at  last. 

"  Why,  you  will  see  her  to-night,  won't  you  ?  You 
must  be  away  before  morning." 

"  It  would  be  safer,"  he  said. 

"  Yes.     Arent  Hooghland  is  horribly  vindictive." 

She  shuddered  as  she  recalled  his  words,  and  his 
savage  frown  whenever  he  encountered  her. 

"  But  my  mother  must  not  be  startled  —  and  she  must 
on  no  account  be  told  more  harm  of  Geysbert  than  is 
absolutely  necessary." 

"  What?     You  will  spare  him?  " 

Aveline  spoke  hotly. 

"  No,  but  I  will  spare  my  mother." 

Aveline  thought  of  the  sad,  weary  face,  and  the  closed 
lips,  and  her  heart  grew  heavy  for  madam.  This  joy 
would  be  but  a  half  joy  for  her.  The  conviction  that 
her  younger  son  was  worthy  would  be  purchased  by 
the  knowledge  that  the  elder  had  deceived  her. 

"Poor  madam  !      Yes,  we  must  spare  her,"  she  said. 

It  was  late  before  Aveline  stood  by  the  door  of  the 
manor  house  ;  so  late  that  her  courage  failed  her.  She 
would  explain  to  madam  before  long,  but  not  now 
and  before  Probity.  A  sudden  impatience  of  Probity's 
presence  took  possession  of  her.  Why  was  she  here, 
or,  if  here,  why  did  she  allow  her  judgment  to  be  warped 
by  Geysbert's  influence?  Her  calm  eyes  were  more 
disturbing  than  madam's  sharpest  words. 

But  Aveline  was  not, called  upon  to  encounter  those 
disapproving  eyes.  She  opened  the  door  noiselessly, 
and  entered  the  hall.     Probity  was  nowhere  to  be  seen. 


FREE   TO   SERVE  309 

She  passed  quickly  up  the  stairs,  stopping  suddenly  on 
the  topmost  step.  That  was  Probity's  voice.  No  other 
had  in  it  such  mournful  music.  It  came  from  madam's 
own  room,  and  the  door  was  ajar.  Aveline  hesitated. 
To  reach  her  own  room  she  must  pass  that  open  door. 
Slie  waited  until  Probity  spoke  again,  and  then  sum- 
moned her  courage,  and  with  quick,  noiseless  step  passed 
through  the  line  of  light. 

They  had  not  seen  her.  She  was  safe,  but  she  was 
not  thinking  of  her  safety.  In  that  minute  of  passing, 
words  had  reached  her  ears,  and  they  were  repeating 
themselves  without  will  of  her  own. 

"  Aye,  dear  aunt,  you  are  right.  The  pain  of  the 
transgressor  must  of  a  surety  be  greater  than  that  which 
his  act  inflicted.  Think  of  it.  My  poor  cousin  !  Blood 
guiltiness  upon  him  !      A  wanderer,  and  rightly  so." 

The  voice  dropped  to  a  low,  mournful  lament,  and 
Aveline  heard  a  quick  sob  in  response.  Her  heart 
burned.  She  no  longer  feared  to  tell  madam,  but  her 
hands  trembled  with  excitement,  and  she  felt  that  her 
voice  was  hoarse.  For  a  few  minutes  she  waited,  busy- 
ing herself  with  putting  away  all  traces  of  her  journey. 
Then  she  heard  Probity  go  down-stairs,  closing  madam's 
door  behind  her.  Aveline  did  not  hesitate.  She  went 
swiftly  to  it,  and  knocked. 

"  What  is  it?  "  asked  madam  in  surprise.  She  had 
not  expected  to  be  disturbed  again  to-night. 

"  May  I  come  in?  " 

Aveline's  tone  was  pleading. 

"  Surely.     Why,  I  thought  you  were  in  bed  !  " 

Madam  yet  sat  in  her  chair  by  the  fire.  She  looked 
inquiringly  at  Aveline. 

"  Madam  !     Dear  madam  !  " 

Aveline  crossed  the  room  swiftly,  and  dropped  on 
her  knees  by  the  old  lady,  laying  her  head  in  her  lap. 

"  Why,  my  dear  child,  what  is  it  ?  " 


3IO  FREE   TO    SERVE 

It  was  madam's  hand  that  trembled  now. 

"  Oh,  madam,  if  it  were  all  joy,  it  would  be  so  much 
easier  to  tell,"  she  said,  "but  now  —  it  is  lifting  one 
burden  to  drop  another  in  its  place." 

"You  have  something  to  tell  me?" 

Aveline  had  raised  her  head,  and  put  her  hand  in 
madam's.  The  pressure  on  it  increased  until  it  was 
almost  painful. 

"  Yes.     Madam  —  I  was  right.     I  have  seen  Helmer." 

The  hold  upon  her  hand  tightened,  and  then  re- 
laxed. Madam's  face  grew  very  white.  She  tried  to 
rise. 

"  Help  me,"  she  said  imperatively.  "Where  is  he? 
I  must  go  to  him." 

"  Nay,  but  he  will  come  to  you  —  soon,"  said  Ave- 
line, as  she  gently  pressed  her  back  into  her  chair. 
"  He  sent  me  to  tell  you." 

"  You  have  seen  him?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  you  were  right?  " 

"  I  was  right." 

The  girl  said  it  proudly. 

"  Did  Helmer  say  so?  " 

"  Indeed,  yes.  He  has  been  grievously  sinned 
against,  but,  madam,  he  has  not  sinned." 

For  a  minute  madam  did  not  speak.  Her  head  was 
bowed. 

"  If  Helmer  said  so,  it  is  true.  He  would  not  lie," 
she  said  at  last.  Then  she  added  impatiently,  "  Why 
does  he  not  come?     I  am  ready  to  see  him." 

"  Madam,  it  is  not  safe.  He  has  enemies,  and  he 
knows  not  how  to  clear  himself.  There  are  more  diffi- 
culties than  we  have  understood.  His  enemies  are 
watching  for  his  life,  and  —  worst  of  all  —  his  brother 
believes  in  his  guilt,  and  has  worked  against  him." 

"  Geysbert?" 


FREE   TO    SERVE  311 

"Yes.  But  we  must  not  blame  him  too  much." 
Aveline  spoke  eagerly.     "  He  thinks  Helmer  guilty." 

Madam  sighed. 

"Tell  me  ail,  child,"  she  said. 

"  I  think  —  Helmer  would  rather  tell  you  himself." 

"You  are  right,"  said  madam.  "  It  is  due  to  him  — 
and  to  me." 

She  had  borne  the  shock  well,  but  there  was  a  dazed 
expression  on  her  face  that  Aveline  did  not  altogether 
like.     It  passed  as  she  had  time  to  think. 

"You  think  that  Geysbert  is  capable  of  working  — 
has  worked  —  against  his  brother?"  she  said. 

"  Madam,  I  know  it." 

"  Then  it  will  be  best  that  he  should  not  see  Helmer." 

"  That  was  what  we  thought." 

"  He  is  not  in  yet.     There  !     I  hear  his  voice." 

Aveline  went  to  the  door  and  listened. 

"  You  are  right,"  she  said.     "  He  has  come  in." 

*'  How  soon  is  Helmer  coming?  " 

"Not  till  twelve." 

"  That  is  well.     The  house  will  then  be  still." 

Madam  was  her  old  self  again,  capable  of  planning 
for  her  boy's  safety. 

"You  have  arranged  to  let  him  in?  "  she  asked. 

"Yes.     I  am  to  go  outside  at  twelve,  if  all  be  safe." 

"  Put  out  the  lights,"  said  madam.  "  It  is  time 
the  house  was  abed.  And  come,  sit  quietly  here  by 
me." 

She  took  the  girl's  hand  in  hers,  and  together  they 
waited  and  listened.  The  house  grew  gradually  still. 
First  Geysbert's,  and  then  Probity's  step  was  heard 
coming  upstairs.  Probity  stopped  for  a  moment  by 
her  aunt's  door,  but  hearing  no  sound,  she  passed  on. 
Madam  must  be  in  bed,  she  thought,  and  she  felt  a 
strong  wave  of  pity  for  the  bruised  heart  that  had  shown 
her  to-night  some  of  its  soreness. 


312  FREE   TO    SERVE 

The  stillness  lasted  for  many  minutes,  and  then  a  soft 
footstep  went  down-stairs,  and  the  door  was  opened. 

"Mother!  " 

"  My  boy." 

Aveline  saw  Helmer  cross  the  room  almost  at  a  run, 
saw  madam  come  to  meet  him  with  hands  outstretched, 
and  then  shut  the  door  and  went  away  to  her  own  room. 
Then  the  excitement  of  the  long  evening,  the  reaction 
from  fear  to  joy,  and  the  strain  of  suspense  yet  left,  told 
upon  her,  and  she  smothered  her  head  in  the  bed- 
clothes, and  cried  till  either  her  tears  or  her  sorrows 
were  exhausted.  Afterward  she  got  up  and  bathed  her 
face,  anxious,  even  in  this  hour,  that  it  should  not  be 
disfigured  with  weeping.  She  heard  the  opening  of  a 
door.  Was  some  one  in  the  house  astir,  or  did  Helmer 
want  her?  She  stole  out  into  the  upper  hall.  Helmer 
was  coming  to  meet  her. 

"  Come  with  me,"  he  said.     "  She  wants  you." 

He  led  her  in. 

"  Bless  us,  mother,"  he  said,  "  and  give  her  to  me. 
She  belongs  to  me  anyhow." 

"  Is  it  so,  my  child?  " 

Madam's  voice  was  very  gentle. 

"  Yes,  madam." 

"  Then  it  should  be  mother,"  she  said.  "  And  right 
glad  I  am  that  it  should  be  so.  Kiss  me,  my 
daughter." 

She  took  the  girl  in  her  arms. 

"  Helmer,  you  can  afford  to  forgive  your  brother," 
she  said.     "  You  have  gained  what  he  sorely  coveted." 

"  Madam,  he  could  never  have  had  it,"  said  Aveline 
quickly. 

Madam  smiled. 

"  Probity  is  right.  This  heart  has  need  of  disci- 
pline," she  said. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  313 

"  Did  my  cousin  say  so?  "  asked  Helmer.  "  Probity 
is  wise,  yet  at  times  she  is  sadly  short-sighted." 

"  My  mother  thinks  it  safest  for  me  to  keep  away 
until  there  is  some  chance  of  being  cleared,"  explained 
Helmer.  "  She  says,  like  you,  that  the  negro  should  be 
watched." 

"Yes.  I  will  attend  to  that  myself,"  said  madam. 
"  I  ought  to  have  gone  to  New  York  in  the  first 
instance.     Geysbert  was  too  easily  led  astray." 

"  But,  mother,  you  are  not  fit  to  go." 

"  You  know  nothing  about  it,"  replied  madam,  in  her 
old  imperious  manner.  "  What  does  a  boy  know  of  his 
mother's  powers?  " 

"  Or  of  her  love?  " 

Helmer  stooped  and  kissed  the  white,  wrinkled  fore- 
head. 

"  I  will  take  Aveline,"  said  madam. 

It  was  a  long,  happy  night,  in  spite  of  the  sorrow 
behind,  and  perhaps  before.  Madam  herself  brought 
it  to  an  end. 

"  You  must  go,"  she  said.  "  You  must  be  far  away 
before    morning." 

She  had  made  many  plans  for  his  safety,  providing 
him  with  means  to  insure  the  help  of  the  Indians,  and 
giving  him  much  advice.  At  last  she  put  her  arms 
about  him. 

"  Now  you  must  go,"  she  said. 

She  would  have  gone  down-stairs  with  him,  but  he 
would  not  permit  it. 

"  Aveline  will  let  me  out,  and  fasten  the  door  after 
me,"  he  protested. 

He  took  his  farewell  of  Aveline  there,  in  his  mother's 
room. 

"  Now  you  are  mine,"  he  said,  "  and  I  care  not  where 
I  go.      I  have  you  and  my  mother  to  think  of." 

They  reached  the  hall  door,  and  Helmer  opened  it. 


314  FREE    TO    SERVE 

"Good-by,"  he  said,  and  stooped  once  more  to  kiss 
her.  When  he  Hfted  his  head  it  was  to  look  into  the 
face  of  his  brother. 

"  You?     And  you  dare  to  do  that !  " 

Geysbert  Hfted  his  clenched  hand. 

Helmer  moved  quickly  aside. 

"  Not  here,  and  now,"  he  said.  "  Remember  our 
mother." 

"  I  remember  nothing  but  that  you  are  a  murderer, 
and  that  you  have  dared  to  put  your  lips  to  hers." 

Geysbert  was  beside  himself.  At  that  instant  he 
could  have  delivered  up  his  brother  to  Arent  Hoogh- 
land's  malice. 

"  You  know  that  what  you  say  is  untrue.  You  know 
that  it  is  you  who  have  deceived  us  all,  and  cheated  him, 
aye,  and  almost  taken  your  mother's  life.  Who  is  the 
murderer,   if  not  you?" 

Aveline  stood  before  him,  her  face  ablaze,  her  eyes 
looking  into  his  with  scorching  scorn.  The  oppor- 
tunity for  which  she  had  waited  had  come. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say  to  you  in  the  matter,"  said 
Geysbert  savagely.  "  I  have  only  to  deal  with  him. 
Aye,  and  by  my  life  I'll  do  it." 

"  What  will  you  do,  my  son?  " 

Madam's  voice  was  not  raised  above  its  ordinary 
tones,  but  it  thrilled  the  three  who  listened  to  it.  For 
the  moment  Geysbert  quailed  before  it.  When  madam 
spoke  thus  her  sons  were  in  the  habit  of  listening,  yes, 
and  of  giving  her  the  answer  she  demanded. 

Geysbert  looked  at  her,  and  from  her  to  the  others. 
When  his  eye  met  Aveline's  his  passion  burst  even  the 
barriers  of  his  mother's  authority. 

"  I  will  bring  him  to  the  retribution  he  deserves.  I 
will  teach  him  what  it  means  to  come  here  and  palm 
himself  off  for  an  honest  man  —  he  —  a   murderer!" 

"  You  will  betray  your  brother?  " 


FREE    TO    SERVE  315 

"  Yes,  I  will." 

"  Then  you  are  no  son  of  mine.  Go  !  This  is  no 
place  for  you." 

Madam  spoke  firmly.  Her  eyes  flashed.  Geysbert 
hesitated. 

"  If  I  go,  it  will  be  the  worse  for  all  concerned,"  he 
said. 

"Mother!  Geysbert!  Let  it  rest.  I  am  going," 
said  Helmer.  "  Geysbert,  how  can  you,  how  dare  you, 
try  her  thus?  " 

For  madam's  face  had  grown  white  to  the  very  lips. 
Helmer  put  his  arm  about  her. 

"Let  me  help  you  upstairs  again,  mother,"  he  said. 

"  No.  Not  till  he  either  leaves  this  house,  or  retracts 
what  he  has  said." 

Geysbert  stood  irresolute. 

"  I  will  do  him  no  injury,"  he  said  at  last,  sullenly  and 
savagely,  "  if  he  will  keep  away.  But  I  believe  him 
guilty.  He  has  told  a  pack  of  lies  to  you,  and  you 
believe  him.  I  have  sifted  the  evidence,  and  I  know. 
Let  him  stay  away.  He  shall  have  all  the  money  he 
needs,  and  shall  be  safe.  But  if  he  come  here,  and  — 
and  dare  to  try  to  take  the  place  of  a  son  of  this  house,  I 
will  not  answer  for  the  consequences." 

"  Let  it  be  so,"  said  Helmer,  whose  eyes  were  fixed 
on  his  mother's  face.  Then  he  whispered  :  "  You  must 
not  distress  yourself  thus.  You  know  you  are  going  to 
clear  me." 

"  True,  my  son,"  she  answered,  in  the  same  low 
voice. 

"  Geysbert,"  said  Helmer,  "  I  accept  banishment  for 
the  present.  You  are  unjust,  and  you  know  it.  But 
for  my  mother's  sake  I  will  go.  Be  good  to  her,  how- 
ever bad  you  have  been  to  me." 

He  turned,  took  madam  in  his  arms,  and  went  up- 
stairs.    When  he  came  down  again,  his  face  was  set. 


3i6  FREE   TO   SERVE 

"  Remember,  I  expect  at  least  that  you  will  be  good 
to  her,"  he  said.  "  She  cannot  bear  much  more.  I 
will  not  answer  now  for  what  your  brutality  to-night  has 
done." 

His  hand  touched  Aveline's.  He  gave  her  one  lin- 
gering look,  and  disappeared  in  the  darkness. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  317 


CHAPTER     XXXI 

1  THINK,  dear  Geysbert,  that  the  principle  upon 
which  you  have  acted  is  right.  A  weak  leniency 
is  the  most  subtle  form  of  temptation.  Sin  must 
surely  be  punished,  however  much  we  love  the  sinner. 
Nay,  the  greater  our  love,  the  more  it  must  weigh  against 
him  in  our  judgment,  for  we  need  to  guard  jealously 
lest  natural  affection  impel  us  to  shield  him  from  the 
consequences  of  his  ill-doing." 

"My  mother  thinks  differently." 

Geysbert's  fingers  tapped  impatiently  on  the  high 
mantelshelf.  He  looked  down  at  Probity.  Her  face, 
white  and  passionless,  was  yet  full  of  tender  feeling  for 
him  in  his  perturbed  mood.  Truly,  as  madam  had  re- 
marked, Geysbert  was  singularly  blind.  He  attached 
but  slight  importance  to  Probity's  ever-ready  sympathy, 
though,  if  at  any  moment  it  had  failed  him,  he  would 
have  missed  it  sadly. 

"  My  poor  aunt  has  suffered  much,"  responded  Prob- 
ity, "  and  I  fear  her  heart  was  ever  weak  where  her 
loved  ones  were  concerned." 

"  Helmer  is  deceiving  her,  and  she  is  determined  to 
let  him."  Geysbert's  tone  was  wrathful.  "  I  would  have 
saved  her  from  it,  and  from  him.  But  she  will  have  her 
own  way." 

"  My  heart  is  sore  for  her,"  rejoined  Probity.  "  She 
is  seeking  to  heal  the  wounded  spirit  with  the  balm  of 
earthly  love." 

"  I  knew  just  how  it  would  be,"  continued  Geysbert. 
"  It  was  solely  for  her  sake  that  I  kept  the  letters  from  her. 
I  was  convinced  she  was  weak  enough  to  believe  them. 
If  Helmer  had  had  any  reasonable  tale  to  tell,  I  would 


3i8  FREE   TO    SERVE 

have  given  him  the  benefit  of  the  doubt ;  but  the  story 
was  so  manifestly  a  lie,  that  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  shield 
my  mother  from  further  contact  with  one  who  was  bent 
on  deceiving  her." 

"  I  believe  you  were  actuated  by  right  motives,"  said 
Probity  kindly,"  but  perchance  you  may  yet  come  to  see 
that,  even  for  a  good  cause,  we  may  not  stoop  to  subter- 
fuge. My  mind  acquits  you  of  evil  intent,  nay,  it  com- 
mends the  motive  which  led  to  the  transgression,  yet  to 
me  all  deceit,  all  want  of  openness,  is  sin.  I  would  not 
willingly  grieve  you,  cousin,  but  I  must  be  honest  with 
my  own  soul  and  yours." 

There  were  tears  in  her  eyes  as  she  lifted  them  towards 
him. 

"  You  are  too  much  of  a  saint  for  me,"  he  said  irri- 
tably. "  Such  scruples  are  beyond  me.  I  acted  for  the 
best,  let  my  mother  say  what  she  may." 

Geysbert  was  disturbed,  grievously  disturbed.  He 
had  seen  his  cherished  plans  upset  before  his  eyes. 
He  had  determined  that  Aveline  and  Helmer  should 
never  again  meet,  and  he  had  come  face  to  face  with 
them  at  a  moment  when  he  could  not  fail  to  see  how 
fully  they  understood  each  other.  His  deceit  had 
answered  no  end.  His  reward  was  Aveline's  scorn,  and 
madam's  just  indignation.  He  was  writhing  under  a 
sense  of  failure.  The  night  had  been  a  trying  one. 
Called  to  madam's  presence  immediately  after  his 
brother's  departure,  he  had  gone  with  hot  anger  scorch- 
ing his  heart.  Aveline's  words  when  she  came  to  sum- 
mon him  had  not  tended  to  cool  his  passion. 

"  I  do  not  know  whether  it  be  a  matter  of  any  impor- 
tance to  you,"  she  said,  "  but  madam's  life  hangs  by  a 
more  slender  thread  than  you  perchance  realize,  and 
you  have  touched  it  roughly  enough  for  one  night." 

He  scowled  at  her,  and  strode  up  the  stairs.  How- 
ever frail  madam's  hold  on  life  might  be,  he  found  that 


FREE    TO    SERVE  319 

her  hold  on  circumstances  was  sufficiently  strong.  Her 
will  had  suffered  no  weakening.  She  insisted  on  a  full 
and  explicit  account  of  his  dealings  with  Helmer,  and 
her  sharp,  imperative  questions  cut  through  the  sophistry 
of  his  arguments,  and  made  him  feel  like  a  culprit  while 
he  posed  as  a  virtuous  defender  of  right. 

Madam  exhibited  extreme  candour  on  that  occasion, 
and  took  the  opportunity  to  lay  before  her  elder  son 
some  rather  unpleasant  alternatives.  He  found  it  expe- 
dient to  show  less  virulence  as  the  interview  progressed, 
though  he  steadfastly  refused  to  allow  any  doubt  on  the 
subject  of  Helmer's  guilt.  He  had  decided  that  Helmer 
was  guilty.  His  whole  course  of  action  had  been 
planned  on  the  supposition  that  he  was  guilty.  It  was 
absolutely  essential  to  his  peace  of  mind  that  Helmer 
should  be  guilty.  He  would  not  admit  the  possibility 
of  mistake.  But  he  admitted  the  danger  of  a  too  vigor- 
ous course  of  action  against  his  brother.  His  mother's 
will  was  —  and  always  had  been  —  law  at  the  manor 
house. 

"  You  are  unjust  to  me,"  he  said  sullenly.  "  You  are 
deceived,  and  you  want  to  be.  I  would  never  have 
acted  as  I  have  done  if  I  had  not  been  absolutely  cer- 
tain that  Helmer's  hand  dealt  Myndert  that  blow." 

"  The  heart  that  desires  to  believe  evil  finds  no  diffi- 
culty about  ways  and  means,"  said  madam.  "  Be  honest 
with  yourself,  my  son,  and  then  you  will  be  more  honest 
towards  your  brother." 

"  I  cannot  see  your  way,"  said  Geysbert  at  last. 
"  But  I  wash  my  hands  of  the  whole  business.  Only  let 
Helmer  keep  away.  The  sight  of  him  here  —  after 
what  he  has  done —  is  more  than  I  can  stand.  Myndert 
was  my  friend,  and  I  saw  him  after  the  cruel  wound  was 
given.  I  shall  never  forget  that  face  —  nor  that  Hel- 
mer was  responsible  for  it." 

Madam  sighed. 


320  FREE    TO    SERVE 

"  It  is  not  so  much  your  judgment  that  needs  con- 
vincing, as  your  heart,"  she  said.  "  Yet  you  believe 
what  you  say.  So  far  you  are  honest.  I  can  talk  no 
more.  I  am  tired,  very  tired.  Leave  me  now.  If  Ave- 
Hne  be  below,  tell  her  to  go  to  bed,  though  it  is  late  for 
such  an  injunction.  And  you  —  go  you  to  bed  like- 
wise." 

It  was  not  a  recommendation,  it  was  a  command. 
He  laughed  impatiently. 

"  Does  a  mother's  command  seem  irritating  to  you?  " 
she  asked. 

"  You  think  I  am  a  boy  still,"  he  said. 

"  Nay  —  but  I  wish  you  were." 

She  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm.  He  took  it  in  his. 
Then  he  stooped  and  kissed  her. 

'•  I  am  going  to  bed,"  he  said. 

"Thank  you,  my  son.      I  will  try  to  rest." 

There  was  a  lessening  of  the  tension  of  madam's  face 
as  she  spoke,  and  a  nervous  quiver  of  her  lower  lip. 
Geysbert  saw  it,  and  it  smote  him  with  a  sudden  pain. 
He  stooped  over  her  again. 

"  Poor  little  mother  !  "  he  said.  "  Your  sons  are  a  sad 
trouble  to  you." 

Aveline's  anger  against  Geysbert  had  been  fierce 
enough  in  that  early  morning  to  threaten  a  disturbance 
of  the  peace.  Before  night  came,  however,  Geysbert 
was  a  very  secondary  thought.  For  it  was  clear  to 
Aveline  that  the  excitement  had  dangerously  reduced 
madam's  stock  of  strength.  She  did  not  attempt  to  rise. 
She  lay  fighting  off  weakness  with  that  unquenchable 
will  of  hers. 

"  I  must  rest.  I  am  going  to  New  York,"  she  said. 
"  We  will  clear  him  yet  —  you  and  I,  my  daughter." 

"You  were  altogether  wrong  in  your  judgment,  child," 
she  said  to  Probity.  "  I  have  seen  my  son  Helmer,  and 
he  has  satisfactorily  explained  that  which  was   mysteri- 


FREE   TO    SERVE  321 

ous.  It  only  remains  to  clear  him.  That  may  possibly 
be  a  long  business,  but  I  shall  set  about  it  as  soon  as  I 
feel  stronger." 

"  And  in  the  meantime  you  must  rest,  dear  aunt," 
said  Probity  pityingly. 

"  Yes.     I  must  rest.     I  have  need  of  all  my  strength." 

Aveline  watched  that  fight  between  weakness  and 
determination  with  intense  anxiety.  She  had  never 
loved  madam  as  she  loved  her  now.  They  were  one  in 
sympathy.  They  two  were  alone,  for  it  was  soon  evi- 
dent that  Probity  inclined  to  Geysbert's  view  of  the 
case,  and  still  believed  Helmer  guilty.  Madam  took  the 
knowledge  very  quietly. 

"  You  must  judge  for  yourself,"  she  said,  when  an 
answer  to  one  of  her  remarks  had  shown  her  the  bent  of 
Probity's  thought.  "  You  will  do  that  in  any  case,  T 
doubt  not.  For  so  young  a  maid  you  have  a  singularly 
strong  reliance  on  the  wisdom  of  your  own  judgment." 

The  week  after  Helmer's  visit  found  madam  still  fight- 
ing against  weakness  as  determinately  as  ever,  and  to 
all  appearance  making  a  successful  fight. 

"  April  is  already  here,"  she  said.  "  Before  it  is  over 
we  will  go." 

To  Aveline  she  was  the  Madam  Feljer  of  old,  but  with 
more  tenderness.  Her  lips  had  lost  their  tight  pressure. 
Even  Geysbert's  attitude  did  not  altogether  discourage 
her. 

"  Geysbert  was  ever  passionate,"  she  said.  "  Yet  we 
must  not  forget  the  provocation.  You  were  always 
before  him,  my  child,  and  you  are — a  great  tempta- 
tion, to  say  the  least  of  it." 

Aveline  smiled,  and  shook  her  head. 

"  Yet  Geysbert  is  not  all  evil,"  continued  madam. 
"  He  has  allowed  his  judgment  to  be  led  astray.  He 
honestly  believes  Helmer  guilty — because  he  wishes 
so  to  believe.     Let  him  find  himself  in  the  wrong,  and 


322  FREE   TO    SERVE 

know  of  a  certainty  that  his  brother  is  innocent,  and 
he  will  repent  of  his  injustice,  and  be  ashamed  of  his 
deceit." 

As  the  days  passed,  madam  grew  strong  enough  to 
make  active  preparations  for  her  journey,  but  sometimes 
Aveline  watched  her  fearfully.  Her  strength  was  so 
manifestly  the  result  of  a  determined  gathering  together 
of  all  her  forces.  She  gained  because  she  would  gain. 
How  long  would  such  an  effort  last?  Would  it  really 
give  the  failing  body  power? 

"  Mother,  the  ducks  are  coming  northward,"  an- 
nounced Geysbert  one  afternoon. 

"  Then  good-by  to  law  and  order  for  the  present," 
said  madam.  "  Are  you  going  to  wait  here,  or  meet 
the  birds  at  the  swamp?" 

"  At  the  swamp.     It  is  the  best  place." 

Geysbert  seemed  more  like  himself  than  he  had  done 
since  his  journey  to  New  York.  For  the  time,  the 
excitement  of  the  duck-shooting  had  put  everything 
else  out  of  his  mind.  The  passing  of  great  flocks  of 
pigeons,  ducks,  and  geese,  made  the  month  of  April  a 
lively  season  among  the  Dutch  settlers.  The  very 
slaves  were  then  possessed  with  the  spirit  of  license. 
At  dawn  of  day  every  hand  that  could  hold  a  gun  was 
uplifted  against  the  life  of  some  feathered  traveller. 
Ducks  and  geese  were  the  only  things  thought  of,  and 
about  this  time  they  appeared  on  the  table  in  every 
guise.  On  the  Feljer  estate  there  was  a  large  swamp 
close  to  the  river.  Hither  came  the  ducks  each  year  in 
passing,  and  here  the  slaughter  was  immense.  Geysbert 
was  eager  to  be  off.  There  was  little  less  excitement 
among  the   negroes. 

"  I  will  not  stay  away  more  than  two  nights  at  a 
time,"  said  Geysbert,  looking  a  little  doubtfully  at 
madam. 

"  It  will  not  hurt  you  to   come  back   on   the   second 


FREE   TO    SERVE  323 

day,"  she  said,  "  but  you'll  be  of  no   use  for  anything 
but  duck-shooting  until  the  birds  are  all  gone." 

When  he  had  disappeared  madam  turned  to  her  own 
preparations  again. 

"  I  shall  leave  you  in  charge,"  she  said  to  Probity, 
"  but  Ryseck  Schredel  must  come  to  look  after  you. 
You  are  a  steady  maid  enough,  yet  I  shall  rest  better 
for  the  knowledge  that  the  eye  of  an  older  woman  is 
over  everything.      I  have  already  spoken  to  Ryseck." 

"  It  shall  be  as  you  desire  in  all  things,  dear  aunt," 
answered  Probity. 

"Well?"  said  madam  inquiringly.  "What  was  be- 
neath those  words?" 

Probity  started.  Had  she  allowed  her  thought  to 
appear  so  plainly? 

"  Did  there  seem  aught  behind?  "  she  asked.  "  I  did 
not  mean  that  it  should  be  so.  I  was  but  thinking  that 
you  were  unfit  to  take  so  great  a  journey.  You  look 
so  frail,  dear  aunt." 

She  did  look  frail  —  frailer  than  usual.  Aveline  had 
seen  it  when  she  went  to  madam  in  the  morning,  and  it 
was  that,  although  he  did  not  know  it,  which  had  made 
Geysbert  arrange  to  come  back  in  two  days.  Probity's 
eyes  had  been  following  her  aunt's  movements  for  a 
long  time. 

"Frail,  do  I?  I  am  not  very  robust,  surely,"  said 
madam.  "  Rest  suits  me  best.  I  will  even  go  and 
take  it." 

She  rose  to  go  to  her  room,  but  she  walked  to  the 
window  instead.  The  light  was  fading,  though  it  was 
strong  enough  to  show  the  delicate  outline  of  her 
face.  Aveline  thought  it  had  never  looked  so  delicate 
before. 

"  There  is  an  Indian  approaching  the  house,"  said 
madam  calmly.  "  Aveline,  go  you  and  see  what  he 
wants.     Perchance  he  has  a  packet  for  me.     And  make 


324  FREE    TO    SERVE 

sure,  in  that  case,  that  he  remain  until  an  answer  is 
ready." 

Aveline  gave  one  startled  look,  and  turned  to  the 
door. 

"  There  is  no  haste,  my  child,"  said  madam  warningly. 
"  The  coming  of  an  Indian  is  no  unusual  occurrence. 
This  one  is  to  be  met  as  all  others." 

Aveline  restrained  her  impetuosity.  She  saw  the 
danger  of  attracting  notice.  As  madam  had  said,  the 
visit  of  an  Indian  was  no  unusual  thing.  And  on  closer 
inspection  she  perceived  that  this  one  carried  some 
ducks.  She  approached  him  nervously.  Did  he  indeed 
bring  letters  from  Helmer? 

"You  must  not  go  in  the  forest  alone  again,"  Helmer 
had  said.  "  It  is  not  safe,  and  Geysbert  might  suspect. 
I  will  communicate  directly  with  my  mother." 

"  The  sister  of  the  snow  is  welcomed  by  the  wings  of 
the  wind,"  said  the  Indian,  in  a  low  tone. 

"You  bring  letters?"  asked  Aveline. 

"  From  the  white  brother." 

"You  are  welcome,"  she  said.  "  And  these  ducks  — 
bring  them  to  the  house,  and  I  will  see  that  a  suitable 
present  is  made  you." 

She  went  on  ahead  to  make  arrangements.  The 
precious  packet  was  hidden  in  her  dress. 

"  Aveline  !  " 

Probity's  voice  greeted  her  when  she  returned  to  the 
hall. 

"  Yes,  I  am  coming,"  said  the  girl  breathlessly. 

"  Madam  has  gone  to  her  room.     Come  upstairs." 

Something  in  Probity's  tone  stopped  the  eager  beat- 
ing of  Aveline's  heart. 

"  She  is  ill,"  said  Probity;   "  take  her  the  letter." 

Aveline  checked  the  exclamation  that  rose  to  her 
lips  as  she  entered  the  room.     The  blue-white  look  of 


FREE   TO    SERVE  325 

madam's  face  frightened  her.  She  had  much  difficulty 
in  controlling  the  expression  of  her  fear. 

"  Come  here,  child." 

Madam's  voice  was  faint.  Aveline  sprang  towards 
her,  and  put  her  arms  about  her. 

"  What  is  it,  dear  —  mother?  " 

"  I  have  fought  against  weakness  and  been  defeated, 
my  child.     That  is  all.     Read  what  he  says." 

She  forgot  her  weakness  as  Aveline  read,  and  the 
light  came  back  to  her  eye.  The  letter  was  full  of  lov- 
ing words,  and  assurances  that  the  writer  would  be  very 
cautious. 

"  Yet,  if  there  should  be  need  of  me,"  he  said,  "  I  am 
not  far  away.     Send  for  me,  and  I  will  come." 

As  Aveline  read  the  words  she  heard  a  low  sob. 

"  There  is  need,"  said  madam.      "  Let  him  come." 

"  Yes.  And  Probity?  "  whispered  Aveline,  in  a  voice 
that  was  choked. 

"  Probity  will  stay  with  me  the  first  half  of  the  night. 
I  shall  need  her.  At  eleven  you  will  take  her  place, 
and  she  will  go  to  bed.  As  soon  after  that  as  possible 
he  must  come." 

Madam's  voice  had  grown  faint  again. 

"  Go,  see  about  it,"  she  said.  "  And  send  Probity  to 
me.  Even  the  task  of  climbing  on  to  yonder  bed  has 
become  too  much  for  my  strength." 

The  tears  were  on  Aveline's  cheeks  as  she  went  to  find 
Probity.  She  had  not  far  to  go.  The  girl  was  waiting 
at  the  head  of  the  stairs. 

"  She  is  ill  —  very  ill,"  said  Aveline  tearfully. 

"  Geysbert  must  be  summoned." 

"  Not  to-night.  We  must  do  madam's  will.  She  will 
herself  summon  him  when  she  thinks  best." 

Aveline  spoke  hastily.  She  was  fearful.  If  Probity 
should  send  for  Geysbert,  all  would  be  lost.  She  need 
not  have  feared.      Madam  had  anticipated  the  difficulty. 


326  FREE   TO    SERVE 

"  To-morrow,  after  daybreak,  you  must  send  for  Geys- 
bert,"  she  said,  as  Probity  entered,  "  but  not  before. 
Let  the  lad  enjoy  one  morning's  shooting  in   peace." 

After  Aveline  had  sent  Probity  to  madam,  she  went 
to  find  the  Indian.  Helmer  must  come  at  once,  there 
was  no  time  to  be  lost. 

"The  white  brother  is  wanted,"  she  said.  "How 
soon  can  he  be  here?  His  foot  should  be  swift,  for 
there  is  need  of  haste." 

"  Before  that  star  dips  behind  the  hills,"  replied  the 
Indian,  pointing  to  one  which  was  far  down. 

"  It  is  well.     Give  him  this,"  she  said. 

Madam  had  not  counted  in  vain  on  Probity's  habit  of 
obedience. 

"  Child,"  she  said,  "  you  are  very  good  and  thought- 
ful. I  should  find  it  hard  to  do  without  you.  Strive- 
well  lent  to  me  a  treasure  of  value  when  he  sent  me 
you.  You  have  accorded  to  me  a  daughter's  loving 
service.  To-night  I  would  try  that  service  further  by 
laying  a  command  upon  you.  At  eleven  Aveline  is  to 
come  to  me,  and  remain  all  night.  I  desire  that  at  that 
hour  you  should  go  to  your  bed,  and  to  sleep.  Unless 
I  send  for  you,  I  ask  that  you  should  not  rise.  If  I  need 
you,  I  will  send  Aveline  for  you." 

Probity  looked  at  her  earnestly. 

"  I  would  not  be  intrusive,"  she  said,  "  but  I  have 
surely  more  experience  than  Aveline,  and,  dear  aunt,  I 
fear  you  are  seriously  ill." 

"  Yes,  I  am  ill.     That  is  why  I  ask." 

Madam's  eyes  were  fixed  on  her  niece. 

"  Your  responsibilities  go  no  further  than  your  duties, 
my  child,"  she  added  kindly,  "  and  sometimes  the  duty 
of  acquiescence  in  the  will  of  another  is  the  highest  form 
of  service.  Does  the  fact  that  your  father  committed 
you  to   my  charge  give  me   no  right    to    command?" 

Again  Probity  hesitated.      Her  face  was  troubled. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  327 

"  I  will  obey  you,  dear  aunt,"  she  said,  after  that 
momentary  silence,  and  she  said  it  very  gently. 

'•  I  did  not  doubt  that  you  would,  my  dear,"  replied 
madam,  and  then  she  lay  quite  still,  and  to  Probity  it 
seemed  that  every  minute  her  face  grew  whiter.  She 
was  lying  thus  when  her  niece  left  her,  and  when  Helmer 
came. 

"  Mother  !      If  I  had  only  known  sooner  !  "  he  said. 

"  There  was  nothing  to  know.  Until  to-night  I  was 
expecting  to  go  to  New  York.  I  shall  never  go  now, 
Helmer." 

"  No.  You  must  not  think  of  that.  I  shall  be  cleared 
some  day." 

Through  the  hours  of  the  night  he  sat  by  her,  his 
hand  in  hers.  As  it  grew  towards  morning  Aveline 
left  them,  the  mother  and  son,  alone.  She  went 
down  into  the  room  where  madam  had  been  sitting  a 
few  hours  before,  planning  for  her  journey.  Aveline 
turned  to  the  chair  she  had  occupied.  What  would 
that  room  be  without  her?  She  shivered,  and  put  fresh 
wood  on  the  fire.  It  blazed  up  in  a  manner  suggestive 
of  hope  and  comfort.  There  were  tears  on  the  girl's 
cheeks,  and  a  weary,  desolate  sorrow  in  her  eyes.  The 
firelight  fell  on  the  grieved  face,  and  was  reflected  by 
the  falling  tears. 

Just  so  Helmer  found  her  long  after,  when  he  came 
softly  down  the  stairs.  The  picture  of  that  room,  as  he 
saw  it  then,  never  faded  from  his  brain.  The  dark 
warmth  of  the  brown  wainscot,  the  brown  carved  furni- 
ture, and  the  great  brown  press  where  the  linen  was 
kept,  was  brightened  by  the  sheen  of  the  brass  sconces, 
in  which  candles  —  made  from  the  wax  of  the  wax- 
myrtle  berry,  that  they  might  give  out  a  balsamic  per- 
fume when  extinguished  —  burned  with  a  soft  light. 
The  firelight  danced  back  from  the  surface  of  the  brass 
box  where  dried  hemp-stalks  waited  to  be  made  useful 


328  FREE   TO    SERVE 

in  lighting  the  candles,  and  fell  on  the  long  blow-pipe, 
so  essential  an  article  when  the  fire  burned  low  and 
needed  its  rousing  breath,  or  the  lights  that  were  above 
reach  were  to  be  blown  out.  The  blue  of  old  Delft  jars 
and  plaques  mingled  with  the  browns,  and  in  the  midst 
of  all  was  the  figure  of  Aveline,  drooping  and  sad,  with 
a  face  that  lighted  up  as  he  came  towards  her. 

"  My  mother  sent  me  away,"  he  said.  "  I  would  risk 
all  and  stay,  but  she  will  not  have  it  so.  Oh,  Aveline,  it 
is  bitter  to  leave  her!  " 

"  She  has  held  out  so  long,"  said  Aveline.  "  She  set 
her  will  against  the  weakness,  and  it  seemed  as  if  she 
would  win.      She  was  so  brave  and  determined." 

"  I  shall  not  go  far  away,"  he  said.  "  You  must  let 
me  know  before  night.     I  shall  send." 

There  was  a  sound  above.  The  daylight  was  enter- 
ing the  room.     He  kissed  her  hastily. 

"  Go  to  her,"  he  said.     "  She  must  not  be  left." 

When  Aveline  went  upstairs  she  found  Probity  with 
her  aunt. 

"  It  is  morning,  dear  aunt  Wyntie,"  the  girl  said. 
^'  Your  commands  did  not  extend  beyond   daylight." 

Madam  smiled  faintly. 

"  As  soon  as  it  is  light  you  may  send  for  Geysbert," 
she  replied. 

The  failure  of  strength  was  complete.  By  the  time 
Geysbert  arrived  madam  found  speaking  difficult.  What 
she  said  to  her  elder  son  none  knew.  She  sent  Probity 
and  Aveline  away.  When  they  returned  she  was  lying 
with  her  hand  in  his.  She  smiled  upon  them,  but  did 
not  speak.  Her  last  words  had  been  spoken  to  Geys- 
bert. Before  night  came  the  manor  house  was  in 
mourning.     Madam  was  at  its  head  no  longer. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  329 


CHAPTER   XXXII 

"  TT    may  be  English  law,  for  aught  I  know,  but  it's 

I  neither  justice  nor  right." 

JL  The  pewter  bottle  which  Ryseck  Schredel  bran- 
dished as  she  spoke  was  brought  so  near  to  Philip's  nose, 
in  the  energy  of  her  remarks,  that  the  good  man  re- 
treated hastily. 

"  Better  tell  Mr.  Geysbert  so,"  said  Philip  drily. 

'*  And  do  you  think  I've  not  told  him  so?  Am  I  one 
to  say  less  to  a  man's  face  than  behind  his  back,  eh? 
Since  when  has  Ryseck  Schredel  turned  coward,  or  lost 
the  use  of  her  tongue?  " 

"  Nay,  I  never  doubted  the  tongue,"  interposed 
Philip. 

"  And  you've  no  need.  Mr.  Geysbert  does  not  doubt 
it,  I  warrant  you."     . 

"  What?     You  told  him  to  his  face?  " 

"That  did  I,  and  the  truth  lacked  nothing  in  plain- 
ness by  my  handling,  I'll  swear." 

"And  what  said  he?"  asked  Philip,  his  heavy  face 
growing  red  with  the  excitement  of  curiosity. 

"  What  said  he?  That  my  business  was  to  make  the 
butter,  and,  since  his  mother  had  so  decreed  it,  to  take 
the  oversight  of  the  house,  but  that  with  action  of  his  I 
had  naught  to  do." 

"  Ah  !     That  shut  you  up,  my  woman." 

"  Shut  me  up !  Don't  you  know  me  yet,  Philip 
Schredel?  It's  not  many  men  have  been  foohsh  enough 
to  try  to  shut  me  up,  but  when  one  sets  himself  to  do 
it,  he's  likely  to  get  more  than  he  bargained  for.  Mr. 
Geysbert  had  got  a  lesson  to  learn,  and  I  was  the  one 
to  teach  him  it.     And  that  he  might  have  a  chance  to 


330  FREE   TO    SERVE 

learn  it  the  better,  I  slammed  to  that  door,  and  put  my 
back  against  it,  for  safety's  sake,  and  then  he  got  a  piece 
of  my  mind,  and  a  good  generous  piece  too,  for  all  he 
is  the  young  master." 

"  Ah  !  " 

"  Yes,  he  did.  There  were  thoughts  in  my  brain  that 
wanted  to  be  let  out,  and  I  let  them  come  with  a  good 
stout  sweep.  He's  no  more  right  to  the  manor  house, 
or  to  anything  that  belongs  to  it,  than  I  have,  and  I  told 
him  so.  And  I  didn't  pick  my  words  either.  What 
care  I  for  English  law,  or  any  other  law,  save  the 
law  of  right  and  justice?  His  father  meant  the  manor 
house  for  Helmer,  and  his  mother  would  have  left  it  to 
Helmer,  if  death  had  not  overtaken  the  poor  lady  all  of 
a  sudden.  That  being  so,  I  let  him  know  that  he  was 
little  better  than  a  common  thief  to  clutch  hold  of  his 
brother's  share  as  well  as  his  own,  almost  before  the 
breath  was  out  of  the  poor  woman's  body.  If  there  was 
no  will,  —  and  of  that  I  was  not  so  sure  as  most  people, 
for  I  knew  madam,  dear  lady,  had  either  made  one,  or 
intended  to  make  one,  —  it  was  none  the  less  a  robbery 
on  his  part  to  take  his  brother's  possession.  The  will 
was  in  his  mother's  mind,  and  he  could  have  read  it 
there,  aye,  and  had  read  it  a  dozen  times,  and  whether 
it  was  writ  down  with  a  pen  or  not,  it  was  in  existence, 
for  madam  knew  it,  and  he  knew  it,  and  we  all  knew  it 
was  meant  to  be,  and  he  was  cheating  the  dead  as  well 
as  the  living  to  behave  as  if  there  had  been  no  will." 

"  I  should  have  been  sorry  to  have  come  across  Mr. 
Geysbert  directly  after  you  told  him  that,"  said  Philip 
slowly, 

"  That's  a  true  word.  You  would.  And  you'd  have 
had  reason  to  be  sorry.  When  a  man  has  to  listen 
against  his  will  to  what  he  knows  is  true,  but  what  he'd 
give  his  eyes  to  be  able  to  prove  a  lie,  he  shows  the  side 
of  himself  that's  not  nearest  to  the  angel,     I  took  occa- 


FREE   TO    SERVE  331 

sion  to  tell  him  that  also.  Since  he  must  needs  ram- 
page, I  deemed  it  best  to  give  him  something  to  rampage 
for." 

"You  hadn't  it  all  to  yourself,  then?  He  found 
something  to  say  as  well  as  you,  eh,  old  woman?" 

"  As  well,  say  you?  Do  you  call  it  well  for  a  man 
to  be  driven  by  his  passion  to  the  use  of  words  that  are 
neither  decent  Dutch  nor  English?  When  a  youth  has 
to  take  to  the  fiery  words  of  hell  before  he  can  give 
vent  to  his  feelings,  it's  proof  that  he's  got  pretty  much 
in  sympathy  with  the  doomed  spirits  whose  language  he 
borrows." 

"  You're  a  mighty  woman,  Ryseck,"  said  Philip  appre- 
ciatively, "  yet  it  would  have  been  small  wonder  if  Mr, 
Geysbert  had  commanded  you  to  go,  about  your  busi- 
ness." 

"  That  did  he,  surely,  but  little  cared  I  for  his  com- 
mands," said  Ryseck.  "  I  told  him  I  was  going  about 
my  business,  and  just  now  my  business  was  to  do  what 
nobody  else  felt  inclined  to  do,  though  doubtless  all 
saw  the  need.  His  mother  was  not  here  to  reprove  him 
for  his  ill  deeds,  and  I  would  even  perform  the  duty  for 
her.  For  the  rest,  I  had  come  from  Old  Nederland  to 
make  the  butter  for  madam,  and  the  butter  I  should 
make,  and  since  she  had  desired  me  to  keep  house  for 
her,  and  see  to  the  welfare  of  the  young  maidens. 
Mistress  Probity  and  Mistress  Aveline,  I  was  going 
to  respect  her  wishes,  whatever  he  might  see  fit  to  do. 
The  manor  house  was  my  place,  and  at  the  manor  house 
I  would  stay." 

It  was  true  that  Geysbert  had  shown  considerable 
haste  in  making  himself  master  of  the  manor  house  and 
all  that  pertained  thereto.  Since  no  will  was  found,  the 
whole  of  the  property  fell  to  him  as  heir-at-law.  He  totally 
ignored  Helmer's  claim.  In  the  preparations  for  the 
funeral,  which  were  made  on  the  extensive  scale  that 


332  FREE   TO    SERVE 

befitted  Madam  Feljer's  rank,  he  made  no  mention  of 
his  brother.  Once,  indeed,  Helmer's  name  was  heard, 
and  that  was  when  Arent  Hooghland  presented  himself 
at  the  manor  house. 

"  I've  got  it  on  my  mind  that  you'll  be  thinking  that 
Helmer  Feljer,  my  son  Myndert's  murderer,  may  with 
safety  come  back  to  madam's  funeral,"  he  said,  "  You're 
hugely  mistaken  if  you  think  so.  Let  him  set  foot  on 
this  land,  and  wherever  I  see  him,  at  his  mother's  grave, 
or  over  her  dead  body,  I'll  not  hesitate.  At  that  moment 
I  strike  for  the  revenge  of  my  son.  I  give  you  fair 
warning.  I'd  shoot  him  at  sight,  but  I'd  rather  see  him 
hang.     It  is  a  death  more  worthy  of  him." 

*'  I  know  nothing  of  Helmer  Feljer,"  said  Geysbert 
coldly.  "  The  manor  house  is  his  home  no  longer.  I 
see  no  reason  why  he  should  come  here,  any  more  than 
elsewhere.  If  he  did  not  visit  his  mother  in  life,  you 
have  little  reason  to  suppose  he  will  do  so  now  that  she 
is  dead." 

Yet  Arent  Hooghland  watched  the  house  with  jealous 
eyes,  possibly  more  with  the  object  of  showing  his  power, 
than  because  he  really  believed  that  Helmer  would 
venture  to  appear.  He  himself  followed  madam  to  the 
grave,  amongst  the  rest  of  the  tenants,  that  he  might  be 
quite  sure  her  younger  son  was  not  there. 

To  those  whose  curiosity  impelled  them  to  question 
him  on  the  subject  of  the  existence  of  a  will,  Geysbert 
replied  calmly. 

"  I  believe  there  was  once  a  will  in  which  my  father 
and  mother  left  the  manor  house  to  my  unfortunate 
brother,"  he  said,  "  but  it  is  not  now  to  be  found.  I 
knew  that  there  was  in  my  mother's  mind  some  idea  of 
destroying  that  will.  Doubtless  she  carried  out  her  in- 
tention in  the  days  between  my  brother's  disappearance 
and  her  own  serious  illness.  I  feel  no  uneasiness  about 
it.    Had  she  wished  it  to  be  carried  into  effect,  I  am  sure 


FREE   TO    SERVE  333 

she  would  have  preserved  it.  My  mother  was  a  woman 
of  careful  habits.  What  she  has  done,  she  has  done  in- 
tentionally." 

Aveline's  indignation  at  his  assumption  of  authority 
at  the  manor  house  knew  no  bounds.  For  a  time  it 
rendered  her  speechless.  But  when  the  funeral  was 
over,  she  turned  on  him. 

"  Do  you  really  mean  to  steal  Helmer's  birthright?" 
she  asked  one  day,  without  preface  of  any  kind. 

"  I  am  not  aware  that  Helmer  has  a  birthright,  or  a 
right  of  any  kind,"  was  the  reply,  and  Geysbert  looked 
steadily  at  the  girl  as  he  spoke.  "  It  may  sound  brutal 
to  say  it,  but  the  right  to  a  rope's  length  is  all  he  can 
claim  under  the  circumstances." 

The  hot  blood  surged  over  Aveline's  face,  and  then 
receded,  leaving  it  white  with  emotion. 

"You  have  sunk  low,"  she  said.  "Truly,  evil  works 
apace.  In  the  days  when  your  father  lived,  you  were 
not  capable  of  this  wrong." 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  flattering  words,"  he  answered, 
and  his  lips  twitched  with  the  intensity  of  his  passion. 
"  Know,  however,  once  for  all,  that  I  am  master  here  — 
of  the  manor  house,  and  of  all  my  mother's  possessions." 

His  glance  at  Aveline  was  significant.  She  under- 
stood, as  he  meant  she  should,  and  she  quailed  before 
it.  Of  the  possessions  which  came  to  him  by  his 
mother's  death  and  his  brother's  absence,  there  was 
one  that  he  cared  more  about  than  all  the  rest.  Nay,  it 
was  for  this  one  that  he  valued  the  rest.  His  mother's 
maid  was  now  his  property.  Had  Helmer  inherited  the 
manor  house,  he  would,  along  with  it,  have  come  into 
possession  of  all  his  mother's  servants.  It  was  not 
greed  mainly  —  though  Geysbert  was  not  averse  to  the 
increased  wealth — that  made  him  rejoice  in  the  inheri- 
tance which  had  fallen  to  him  through  Helmer's  misfort- 
une.    His  hold  on  Aveline  was  the  first  thing  of  which 


334  FREE   TO   SERVE 

he  thought.     He  would   have  sacrificed    all   the   estate 
rather  than  have  given  that  up. 

If  Aveline  shrank  before  the  hidden  meaning  in  his 
words,  it  did  not  take  her  long  to  rally. 

"  I  have  a  concern  of  my  own  about  which  I  would 
speak  to  you,"  she  said.  "I  came  here  as  your 
mother's  maid.  Dear  madam  is  dead.  I  can  be  of  no 
further  use  to  her.  I  ask  you  for  permission  to  buy  my 
freedom.  Nay,"  she  said,  as  she  saw  the  refusal  in  his 
eye,  "  I  ask  it  not  as  a  favour,  but  as  a  right.  For 
madam  and  for  your  father  I  performed  the  duty  of  a 
daughter.  They  were  both  pleased  to  tell  me  so.  I 
claim  as  a  recompense  of  my  services  the  right  to  pay 
you  back  the  money  you  gave  to  Captain  Crandal,  and 
to  call  myself  a  free  woman." 

"And  I  deny  that  right." 

Geysbert's  eye  was  fixed  upon  her.  There  was  in  it 
triumph  and  passion  mingled. 

"You  deny  it?  " 

"I  do." 

"  You  pronounce  yourself  destitute  of  either  shame 
or  manliness?  " 

"  If  you  choose  to  put  it  so,  yes." 

"  Geysbert  Feljer,  I  pity  you  more  than  I  do  myself. 
Until  now  I  knew  not  how  low  it  was  possible  for  man 
to  sink." 

She  turned  from  him  to  fasten  herself  in  her  room, 
and  walk  up  and  down  in  passionate  despair.  She  had 
thought  he  would  not  dare  to  refuse  her  her  freedom. 
It  was  so  manifestly  her  right.  She  must  be  free  to  go 
to  New  York,  and  pursue  the  inquiry  madam  was  to 
have  undertaken.  How  could  Helmer  be  cleared  unless 
some  one  went  to  watch  the  negro  ?  Now  things  must 
remain  as  they  were. 

"  It  was  unjust  of  madam  to  leave  it  thus,"  she  cried, 
and  then  she  reproached  herself  for  the  thought. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  335 

Death  had  overtaken  madam  suddenly,  or  she  would 
never  have  left  her  younger  son  unprovided  for.  But 
had  she  done  so?  Was  it  possible  that  she  could  have 
been  so  remiss?  Since  Geysbert  was  capable  of  such 
deceit  and  hardness,  was  there  anything  worse  of  which 
he  was  not  capable? 

Not  even  to  Ryseck  did  Aveline  tell  her  disappoint- 
ment, but  the  good  woman's  eyes  served  her  on  occa- 
sion, and  once  or  twice,  after  they  had  rested  on 
Aveline,  they  turned  to  follow  Geysbert  with  a  look 
which  said  that  the  redoubtable  Ryseck  would  not  have 
been  averse  to  giving  the  young  man  a  further  taste  of 
the  sharpness  of  her  tongue. 

Probity  and  Aveline  worked  together  with  wonderful 
unanimity.  Probity  was  sorry  for  Aveline,  and  now  that 
she  was  never  called  upon  to  watch  friendly  advances 
towards  her  from  Geysbert,  she  could  afford  to  be 
magnanimous.  After  that  last  encounter,  Geysbert 
avoided  Aveline  as  much  as  possible.  He  was  wise 
enough  to  desire  to  let  the  ill  feeling  blow  over.  It  hurt 
him  to  quarrel  with  her,  but  he  would  rather  quarrel 
with  her,  and  meet  her  anger,  than  feel  her  indifference. 
He  was  no  less  in  love  with  her  than  before.  It  seemed 
as  if  his  love  grew  faster  than  ever  in  the  unpropitious 
soil  of  strife.  There  was  no  generosity  in  the  love,  but 
there  was  passion  enough  to  keep  Geysbert's  soul  hot, 
and  to  drive  him  on  determinately  in  the  course  he  had 
undertaken. 

The  manor  house  was  very  desolate  to  Aveline  now 
that  madam  was  gone.  The  June  sunshine,  when  it 
came,  could  not  give  the  place  its  old  warm,  cheery  look. 
She  would  gladly  have  turned  her  back  on  it,  since  it 
held  for  her  only  sorrow.  She  was  ready  to  echo 
Ryseck's  words,  when  one  morning  she  met  the  good 
woman  on  the  stairs. 

"  What  is  coming  to  the  house?  "  demanded  Ryseck. 


336  FREE   TO   SERVE 

"  Surely  there's  nothing  in  it  but  vexation  and  harass- 
ing." 

Aveline  smiled  sadly. 

"  There  should  be  satisfaction  in  it  to  you,"  she  said, 
"  for  you  have  at  least  the  knowledge  that  you  help  keep 
it  straight  for  others." 

"  Straight !  Did  anything  ever  keep  straight  in  this 
crooked  world?"  responded  Ryseck.  ''And  did  trouble 
ever  fail  to  come  where  you  least  expected  it?  Who'd 
have  supposed  that  Philip  Schredel  would  turn  that  help- 
less or  childish  that  he  couldn't  hold  a  pipe  between 
his  lips  when  he  was  dead  asleep  as  well  as  when  he  was 
awake?  Sure  enough  he  must  be  stricken  with  sick- 
ness or  death,  to  fail  in  an  act  so  simple." 

"  Has  aught  of  harm  resulted?"  asked  Aveline,  an 
amused  smile  for  a  moment  playing  on  her  lips. 

"  Harm  enough,"  responded  Ryseck.  "  When  did 
fire  ever  refuse  to  burn?  It  did  but  burn  a  hole  through 
the  bed-clothes  as  large  as  the  bowl  of  his  great  pipe. 
But  it  is  not  the  hole  which  troubles  me  so  much  as  the 
mischief  it  portends.  Surely  nothing  but  sickness  could 
make  the  man  thus  helpless,  and  truly  his  head  was  that 
heavy  this  morning  that  he  could  hardly  hold  it  up.  To 
think  that  he  could  not  keep  the  pipe  between  his  teeth 
in  his  sleep,  when  to  my  certain  knowledge  it's  never 
been  out  of  his  mouth  day  or  night,  except  when  he's 
been  eating  or  drinking,  or  otherwise  specially  employed, 
since  he  and  I  were  married.  He's  gone  to  sleep  with 
it  there  as  regularly  as  he's  gone  to  his  bed,  and  the 
smell  of  it,  when  he's  woke  up  and  lighted  it  in  the  night, 
and  fallen  asleep  again  with  it  all  snug  between  his  teeth, 
has  been  as  natural  to  me  as  sleep  itself.  And  now  to 
think  he  should  drop  it  from  his  mouth  in  the  night,  and 
never  know  a  thing  about  it.  It  is  sickness  coming,  of 
a  surety." 

Ryseck  was  not  far  wrong.     Sickness  had  overtaken 


FREE   TO   SERVE  337 

Philip,  and  though  he  was  not  dangerously  ill,  the  good 
woman  had  her  hands  full.  That  the  worthy  Dutchman 
was  no  gentle  patient  Ryseck's  sharpened  tongue  testified. 
Many  duties  devolved  upon  the  two  girls  in  consequence 
of  her  attendance  on  her  husband,  and  Aveline  was  very 
tired  when,  on  a  certain  warm  June  night,  she  sat  upon 
the  piazza  and  thought  of  madam  and  Helmer.  Where 
Helmer  was  now  she  did  not  know.  He  had  deemed  it 
unsafe  to  communicate  with  her  at  present.  How  would 
it  all  end?  Would  he  ever  be  cleared?  What  was  he 
doing  to-night? 

As  if  in  answer  to  her  thought,  a  childish  voice  from 
out  the  darkness  whispered  in  terrified  tones :  "  Oh, 
missy  —  Missy  Av'line  !     He's  dead!  " 

The  face  of  Tyte  appeared,  and  even  in  the  dim  light 
Aveline  could  see  upon  it  the  look  of  horror.  The  boy 
sprang  upon  the  piazza,  and  dropped  on  the  floor  by  her 
feet,  rocking  himself  to  and  fro  in  his  excitement. 

"  Mars'r  Helmer  !   Oh,  Mars'r  Helmer  !  "  he  moaned. 

"  Hush  !  "  said  Aveline  authoritatively.  "  Are  you 
sure?" 

"No,  missy,"  said  Tyte  wofully. 

"  Tyte,"  said  Aveline,  clutching  the  boy's  shoulder, 
"  get  up  and  tell  me  what  you  mean." 

1  yte  rose  and  faced  her,  pressing  up  against  her.  He 
even  laid  his  hand  on  her  arm.  Tyte  had,  for  the 
moment,  forgotten  all  his  good  behaviour. 

"Who  told  you?"  asked  Aveline,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Nobody.     I  —  missy  —  I  see  him." 

The  grasp  of  the  boy's  fingers  tightened.  He  looked 
fearfully  over  his  shoulder. 

"Where?" 

"  In  de  forest,  right  up  under  de  mountain.  Oh, 
Mars'r  Helmer  !     Mars'r  Helmer  !  " 

The  scene  he  had  witnessed  had  so  manifestly  taken 
hold  of  the  imagination  of  the  boy,  that  its  horror  com- 


338  FREE   TO   SERVE 

municated  itself  to  Aveline.  She  hardly  doubted  Tyte's 
assertion.  It  was  so  real  to  him,  and  the  worst  was 
always  happening  now, 

"  How  do  you  know  he  was  dead?  "  she  asked. 

"  He  look  dead.  Mars'r  Helmer  never  look  like  dat 
when  he  was  alive." 

"Did  you  touch  him?" 

Tyte  shook  his  head.  Aveline  felt  the  shudder  that 
went  through  his  frame  at  the  question. 

"  Missy,  no.     I  dassent.     He  look  so  dead!' 

"What  did  you  do?" 

"  Stand  jest  inside  de  tepee  for  a  minute,  and  look  at 
him,  layin'  all  dead  —  and  den  —  and  den  —  I  run,  and 
Mars'r  Helmer's  face  run  too,  all  de  way  in  de  gaderin' 
dark.  It  look  at  me  out  of  de  trees,  and  trough  de 
bushes  —  dead  !  " 

The  last  word  was  wailed  out  in  a  tone  that  sent  a 
thrill  through  Aveline's  heart. 

"Was  he  wounded?"  she  asked. 

"  Dere  no  blood,  missy,  —  noting  only  his  dead  face, 
and  him  layin'  stretched  on  de  groun'." 

"He  has  murdered  him  !  " 

Aveline's  thought  had  sprung  to  Arent  Hooghland. 
Then  a  more  terrible  possibility  presented  itself.  Had 
Geysbert  and  Helmer  met,  and  was  that  dead  face  the 
sole  record  of  what  had  followed?  She  tried  to  throw 
off  the  horror,  and  to  obtain  more  definite  information. 

"  How  far  were  you  in  the  forest?  "   she  asked. 

"  A  long  way,  missy.  Up  on  de  side  of  de  moun- 
tain." 

"  Were  there  any  more  tepees?  " 

"Tree  more.  Rufe  and  me  go  huntin'.  He  go  on, 
and  I  stop  by  de  tepee,"  said  Tyte. 

"  Rufe  was  with  you,"  interposed  Aveline.  "  Then 
he  saw  Mr.  Helmer?" 

"  No,  missy.     He  go  on.     I  go  in  de  tepee,  jest  for 


FREE   TO   SERVE  339 

to  see  inside.  And  den — den  —  Mars'r  Helmer's  face 
scare  me,  and  I  run." 

"  How  long  ago  was  that?"  asked  Aveline. 

"  De  dark  come  'fore  I  get  out  of  de  forest,"  said 
Tyte. 

The  boy  still  trembled.  His  eyes  were  rolling  with 
fear.  For  a  minute  Aveline  did  not  speak.  She  was 
thinking  rapidly.  Was  Helmer  really  dead?  There 
might  yet  be  life  left.  Tyte  was  not  sure.  In  his 
frightened  haste  he  might  have  mistaken  sleep  for  death. 
Something  must  be  done,  and  she  must  do  it.  There 
was  nobody  else  upon  whom  to  depend.  Ryseck  was 
engrossed  with  Philip,  and  if  she  were  not,  it  would  not 
be  safe  for  her  to  go. 

"  Tyte,"  said  Aveline,  "  I  am  going  to  Mr.  Helmer, 
and  you  must  go  with  me  to  show  me  the  way." 

"  No,  missy !  Not  now,"  said  Tyte.  "  Not  in  de 
dark !  " 

His  voice  rose  in  shrill  appeal. 

"  What,  you  would  leave  Mr.  Helmer  to  die — you, 
his  own  boy?  " 

Aveline  spoke  reproachfully.  A  sob  burst  from  Tyte's 
lips. 

"  He  ts  dead,  missy,  layin'  dere  in  de  tepee." 

"I  don't  believe  he  is  dead,"  said  Aveline  firmly.  "I 
am  going  to  him  as  soon  as  I  can  get  what  I  need  to 
take  with  me.     I  want  you  to  carry  the  basket." 

Tyte's  hand  was  still  on  her  arm.  He  swayed  back- 
wards and  forwards  in  his  terror. 

"  Missy,  don't!  "  he  said.     "  Not  in  de  dark." 

Aveline  looked  at  the  boy  for  a  moment.  His  fear 
was  becoming  uncontrollable.  She  wrenched  her  arm 
free,  and  put  both  her  hands  on  his  shoulders. 

"Tyte,"  she  said,  "  I  thought  you  loved  Mr.  Helmer. 
You  do  not.  He  is  in  need — dying  —  and  you  will 
not  go  to  help  him.     Go  home.     I  do  not  want  you. 


340  FREE   TO   SERVE 

You  are  not  Mr.  Helmer's  boy.  You  leave  him  to 
die." 

She  released  him,  and  went  towards  the  door. 

"  Missy  !      Missy  Aveline  !  " 

"  Well?  "     Her  voice  was  cold. 

"  Dis  boy  will  go.  Dere's  death  spirits  in  dat  forest 
to-night,  but  Tyte  is  goin'  to  Mars'r  Helmer  if  dey  kill 
him." 

Aveline  turned.  There  had  come  a  quick  revulsion 
of  feeling. 

"  Tyte,  you  and  I  will  go,"  she  said.  "  It  is  for  Mr. 
Helmer.  Wait  for  me  out  beyond  the  buildings.  I 
shall   not  be   long." 

She  went  into  the  house.  Her  brain  was  on  fire,  but 
her  heart  was  cold,  Helmer  dead  !  It  was  as  likely  to 
be  true  as  false.  But  true  or  false  she  would  see  for 
herself.  There  was  no  one  else  free  to  go.  Free ! 
Aveline  stood  still  just  where  she  was.  The  word 
darted  through  her  brain  like  a  lightning  flash.  It  re- 
vealed to  her  the  situation.  She  was  the  only  one  of 
the  whole  household  who  was  «<?/free.  She  had  no  legal 
right  to  go  to  Helmer,  or  to  stir  one  step  beyond  the 
door  of  the  manor  house.  She  belonged  to  Geysbert,  and 
she  knew  what  answer  he  would  give  should  she  ask  his 
consent  to  her  expedition.  She  was  in  bondage,  bound 
by  law  to  do  the  will  of  her  master.  And  that  master 
was  Geysbert.  She  had  no  right  to  leave  his  house, 
even  for  an  hour,  without  his  permission  —  no  right  to 
save  Helmer's  life,  were  it  possible  that  it  could  be 
saved.  She  stood  stunned.  Her  face  had  grown  white 
and  hard.  It  was  the  bitterest  moment  of  her  servi- 
tude. She  was  bound.  She  was  not  at  liberty  to  go  to 
Helmer. 

Slowly  the  necessity  for  movement  forced  itself  upon 
her  and  she  went  upstairs.  At  the  top  she  stopped  a 
second  time.     Her  face  softened.     The  deadly  white- 


FREE   TO    SERVE  341 

ness  disappeared,  and  tears  glistened  in  her  eyes.  Her 
heart  was  beating  naturally  again. 

"  I  am  bound  to  do  service  for  dear  madam,"  she 
said.  "  The  freedom  of  that  service  is  mine.  I  am 
free  to  serve  —  nay,  I  am  boicnd  to  serve.  I  am  going 
to  Helmer —  in  madam's  service." 

Not  half  an  hour  later  Aveline  stood  in  Philip  Schre- 
del's  room. 

"  Ryseck,"  she  said,  "  I  have  a  duty  to  perform  for 
madam.  It  may  keep  me  away  from  the  manor  house 
for  a  time,  but  it  is  such  that  madam  herself  would  have 
commanded  me  to  do  it.  I  go  to  serve  her,  and  when 
that  service  is  ended  I  will  return." 

Ryseck  looked  at  her  amazed. 

"  You  are  going  away  now?  "  she  asked. 

"  Hush  !  I  did  not  say  so.  But  if  it  should  be  so, 
for  madam's  sake  you  will  wait  for  my  return.  You 
can  trust  me,  Ryseck,  can't  you?" 

Ryseck  looked  at  her  for  a  minute  without  speaking. 

"Aye,"  she  said  at  last,  "  I  can." 

The  girl's  lip  quivered,  and  she  turned  hastily  away. 

"Do  you  want  aught  to  take  with  you?"  asked 
Ryseck. 

"  I  have  all  I  need." 

She  went  towards  the  door,  came  back  and  threw  her 
arms  about  Ryseck's  neck,  and  was  gone. 

The  good  woman  did  not  follow  her.  Ryseck  was 
discreet. 

It  was  not  less  than  five  miles  from  the  manor  house 
to  the  spot  from  which  Tyte  had  fled  that  afternoon. 

The  trail  ran  along  the  mountain  side,  ascending  as  it 
went.  It  was  a  rough,  uneven  bridle-path,  here  and 
there  passing  dangerously  near  to  the  edge  of  steep, 
rocky  ledges,  that  in  the  darkness  seemed  to  dip  down 
to  great  depths.  Tyte's  fear  showed  itself  in  loud  gasps, 
as  he  pressed  close  to  Aveline.     She  was  not  without 


342  FREE   TO    SERVE 

fear  herself.  This  part  of  the  forest  was  very  wild  and 
lonely,  and  savage  beasts  lurked  in  the  shelter  of  the 
underbrush.  There  was  none  of  the  hope  that  had  been 
in  her  heart  when  she  braved  the  loneliness  of  the  woods 
before.  Then  she  was  going  to  communicate  with  Hel- 
mer  —  now  it  was,  perchance,  a  dead  Helmer  that  she 
was  to  meet. 

"You  are  sure  you  are  going  right,  Tyte?  "  she  said. 

"  Yes,  missy." 

Tyte's  voice  shook.  He  was  shaking  from  head  to 
foot. 

"  Look,  missy  !      Mars'r  Helmer's  face  !  " 

His  words  rose  to  a  shriek.  He  pointed  to  an  open- 
ing in  the  trees.  The  moonlight  shone  through  an  oval 
space,  about  the  size  of  a  man's  head. 

"  Nonsense,"  said  Aveline,  "  that  is  no  face.  Go  on. 
We  shall  soon  be  with  Mr.  Helmer,  and  you  will  then 
have  nothing  to  fear." 

Her  own  heart  beat  irregularly,  in  spite  of  her  words. 
It  was  weird  and  gruesome  here,  on  the  edge  of  the 
mountain,  and  at  dead  of  night,  and  the  errand  was 
more  weird  than  the  road. 

"  Dere,  missy.     Yonder's  de  tepee." 

Tyte  stood  still.  His  legs  refused  to  carry  him  nearer 
to  the  horror  he  had  seen  in  that  deserted  Indian  habi- 
tation. It  was  right  before  them,  about  thirty  yards 
away. 

"  Come  !  "  said  Aveline,  but  Tyte  drew  back.  When 
she  left  him,  however,  he  sprang  after  her. 

"  No,  missy.     Don't  go  widout  me." 

They  reached  the  opening  of  the  tepee  together. 
Then  Tyte  fell  back.  He  had  not  courage  to  enter. 
Aveline  stepped  inside. 

Tyte  was  right.  Upon  the  floor  lay  a  motionless 
figure.  It  was  too  dark  to  see  that  figure  clearly,  but 
Aveline  did  not  doubt  that  it  was  Helmer.    Her  trem- 


FREE   TO    SERVE  343 

bling  hands  for  a  long  time  refused  to  aid  her  in  procur- 
ing a  Hght.  She  tried  again  and  again.  Then  a  spark 
fell,  and  the  lantern  was  alight.  Until  then  Aveline  had 
forced  her  eyes  to  keep  away  from  the  form  extended 
upon  the  floor.     Now  she  lifted  the  lantern. 

"  Helmer !  "  she  cried,  and  was  on  her  knees  by  his 
side  in  a  moment. 

It  looked  like  a  dead  face.  It  was  no  wonder  Tyte 
was  afraid.  Her  own  heart  was  afraid  too,  fearful  that 
there  was  no  more  service  to  render, 

"  Helmer!     Oh,  Helmer!  "  she  moaned. 

A  quiver,  the  slightest  possible,  stirred  the  eyelids. 
Avehne  sprang  to  her  feet. 

"  He  is  not  dead,"  she  cried,  and  hastened  to  take 
restoratives  from  the  basket. 

It  was  long  before  he  opened  his  eyes.  When  he  did 
so,  a  feeble  smile  broke  over  his  face.  Then  he  roused 
himself,  but  it  was  to  utter  no  words  of  welcome. 

"  Go  I  he  said.  "  You  have  no  business  to  be  here. 
Go  !     Do  not  touch  me." 

She  looked  at  him  reproachfully. 

"  Helmer,"  she  said  gently,  "do  you  not  know  me? 
It  is  I  —  Aveline." 

She  would  have  taken  his  hand,  but  he  drew  it  away. 
The  effort  was  almost  beyond  his  strength.  He  lifted 
his  eyes  to  her  face.  They  were  clearer  now,  and  his 
tongue  was  more  under  his  control.  The  restoratives 
were  taking  effect. 

"Dear  —  you  must  go,"  he  said.  "  It  is  small-pox. 
You  will  catch  it." 

"  Is  that  all?"  she  asked,  and  her  eyes  smiled  into 
his.     "  I  am  not  afraid.     But  I  will  keep  Tyte  away." 

She  went  to  the  door. 

"  Tyte,"  she  said,  "  we've  saved  him.  He  is  not  dead. 
But  you  must  not  come  in,  or  you  will  take  the  small- 
pox.    Go  you  into  the  nearest  tepee.     It  is  close,  and 


344  FREE   TO    SERVE 

you  can  hear  our  voices.  See,  I  will  bring  the  lantern 
in,  and  you  shall  make  sure  that  the  place  is  empty." 

When  she  had  disposed  of  Tyte,  she  came  back. 
Helmer  was  trying  to  rise,  but  his  strength  was  insuf- 
ficient. 

"  You  are  very  ill,"  she  said.     "  You  must  lie  still." 

She  sat  on  the  floor  by  his  side,  and  took  his  head  in 
her  lap,  her  hand  caressing  it  as  it  lay, 

"  How  long  have  you  been  here?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  do  not  know.  A  long  time,  I  think.  The  disease 
had  run  its  course,  and  I  was  getting  better.  It  was  at 
no  time  so  bad  that  I  could  not  take  a  certain  amount 
of  care  of  myself.  But  my  provisions  had  failed,  and  I 
was  too  weak  to  procure  more  —  and  —  I  was  starving. 
That  was  all." 

"Helmer!" 

She  was  on  her  feet  in  a  moment,  putting  his  head 
tenderly  back  on  the  old  bear-skin  upon  which  he  lay. 
He  was  very  weak,  so  weak  that  Aveline  was  frightened. 
She  fed  him  like  a  child,  and  he  lay  smiling  at  her  like 
one;  and  when  the  early  morning  light  crept  in 
through  the  doorway  of  the  tepee,  they  were  both  sur- 
prised to  see  it. 


FREE   TO   SERVE  345 


CHAPTER   XXXIII 

WITH  returning  day  Tyte's  fears  vanished. 
Mars'r  Helmer  was  alive,  and  he  and  Missy 
Av'line  and  Tyte  were  in  the  forest  together. 
Tyte  loved  the  freedom  of  the  woods,  and  his  capers 
were  irrepressible  when  he  learned  that  he  was  to  stay 
to  assist  Missy  Av'line.  Tyte  held  his  head  high. 
Mars'r  Helmer  might  have  been  dead  now,  if  he  had 
not  brought  Missy  Av'line  to  the  rescue.  He  was 
very  active,  cutting  off  boughs  to  make  a  bed  for  Hel- 
mer, and  bringing  in  enough  small  game  to  supply  his 
own  wants  and  Aveline's. 

Aveline  stoutly  refused  to  allow  him  to  enter  the 
tepee  where  Helmer  lay.  She  would  brave  the  disease 
herself,  but  she  would  not  allow  Tyte  to  do  so.  She 
was  busy  that  first  day  preparing  her  camp.  She  ap- 
propriated one  empty  tepee  for  storehouse  and  head- 
quarters for  herself,  and  before  evening  came  had  done 
much  to  add  to  Helmer's  comfort.  He  wanted  her  to 
.stay  all  day  by  his  side.  It  was  better  than  food,  to 
watch  her,  he  declared.     She  shook  her  head. 

"  Happiness  alone  is  too  light  a  diet,"  she  said. 
"  It  must  be  interspersed  with  something  more  sub- 
stantial." 

He  was  gaining  strength  already.  Aveline  was  glad 
that  her  basket  had  been  a  large  one,  and  well  packed. 
She  guarded  its  contents  jealously.  Had  she  been  a 
little  farther  from  the  manor  house,  she  would  have  felt 
happier.  She  could  not  altogether  rid  herself  of  the  fear 
that  Geysbert  would  institute  a  search  for  her.  She  knew 
that  her  absence  would  cause  no  small  disturbance,  but 
if  she  had  witnessed  Geysbert's  anger  when  he  learned 


346  FREE   TO    SERVE 

that  she  was  gone,  her  fears  might  have  had  a  more 
definite  foundation. 

Probity  did  not  grow  decidedly  anxious  about  her 
till  mid-day.  Then,  as  she  did  not  appear,  she  con- 
cluded that  her  supposition  of  a  visit  to  some  neighbour 
was  wide  of  the  mark. 

It  was  Geysbert  who  summoned  Ryseck. 

"  Where  is  Miss  Aveline?  "  he  asked  peremptorily. 

"  Just  what  I  was  going  to  ask  you,  sir,"  replied  that 
good  woman,  looking  him  fairly  in  the  face.  "  You're 
master  here,  and  it's  more  likely  to  be  deed  of  yours 
that  is  keeping  her  from  the  manor  house  than  anything 
else." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that?  "  demanded  Geysbert, 
turning  on  her  fiercely. 

"  What  I  say.  Ryseck  Schredel  never  means  aught 
less." 

"You  had  better  beware,  woman,"  shouted  Geysbert. 
"Your  insolence  is  unbearable," 

"  Maybe  the  truth  is  unbearable,"  replied  Ryseck 
coolly.  "  But  somebody  has  got  to  tell  it.  And  when 
you're  about  it,  you  may  as  well  hear  a  little  more.  It 
won't  hurt  you,  I'll  wager.  If  you'd  heard  it  earlier 
and  oftener,  you'd  maybe  have  had  a  heart  less  hard." 

"  What  is  it  you  are  driving  at?"  demanded  Geys- 
bert fiercely.  "  Say  what  you  have  to  say  and  done 
with  it.  Where  is  Aveline,  and  what  have  you  to  do 
with  her  absence?" 

"  I  don't  know  where  she  is,  poor  lass,"  said  Ryseck, 
"  but  I  know  where  she  ought  to  be.  She  ought  to  be 
with  that  brother  of  hers,  as  free  to  go  and  come  as 
Mistress  Probity  here.  If  anybody's  earned  the  right, 
it's  that  maid.  And  for  her  to  be  forced,  because  she's 
denied  her  freedom,  to  take  things  into  her  own  hands 
if  she  needs  to  be  away  a  few  days  or  weeks  from  the 
manor  house,  says  little   for  the  son  of  the  father  and 


FREE   TO    SERVE  347 

mother  she  nursed  and  cared  for  as  if  they  had  been 
her  own." 

"Who  told  you  she  ever  asked  for  her  freedom?" 
inquired  Geysbert  wrathfuUy.  "  Whatever  conversa- 
tion she  had  with  me  on  the  subject  was  surely  private, 
and  concerned  none  but  myself  and  her.  What  right 
have  you  to  know  of  it,  far  less  to  interfere?  " 

"  Who  told  me?  My  own  sense.  I've  got  a  little, 
and  it  took  but  a  little  to  read  that  poor  maid's  sorrow. 
Truly  this  is  the  first  time  the  story  has  been  told  in 
words.  Right  glad  I  am  you've  said  it  in  good  plain 
Dutch.  It  brings  it  home  to  everybody  to  have  it  put 
into  speech." 

Geysbert's  answer  was  a  round  Dutch  oath.  Pro- 
bity's eyes  grew  dark  with  disapproval. 

"  Cousin  Geysbert,"  she  said,  "  the  tongue  of  a  good 
man  will  not  dip  itself  in  evil.  Verily  such  words  are 
a  sin." 

"  I'm  not  a  good  man,"  replied  Geysbert,  with  an 
angry  laugh.  "  I  grant  you  the  words  were  not  fit  for 
your  ears." 

"And  of  the  facts,  cousin?  Does  Ryseck  speak 
truth?" 

"  That  I  choose  not  to  give  away  a  possession  that 
is  mine  by  legal  right?     Yes.      It  is  truth." 

He  spoke  defiantly. 

"And  what  of  moral  right?  Surely  it  seems  to  me 
that  in  this  case  justice  is  against  you,  cousin." 

"  You  are  all  against  me,"  he  said.  "  Yet  in  spite 
of  you  all,  I  will  find  Aveline,  aye,  and  bring  her 
back." 

His  passion  was  again  mastering  him.  He  turned  to 
Ryseck. 

"  Speak  !  "  he  cried.  "  Tell  me  all  you  know  about 
her,  or  I'll  take  measures  that  shall  bring  even  you  to 
terms." 


348  FREE   TO    SERVE 

"  I  doubt  not  that  your  measures  will  be  worthy  of 
you,"  said   Ryseck. 

"  Ryseck,"  interposed  Probity  quietly,  though  the 
colour  which  came  and  went  in  her  face  showed  that 
the  calmness  did  but  extend  to  externals,  "  it  seems  to 
me  that  you  forget  both  your  relation  to  my  cousin, 
and  the  duty  you  owe  your  own  soul.  Such  bitterness 
of  speech  is  unseemly,  and  in  one  in  the  position  in 
which  you  stand,  surely  a  lapse  of  duty." 

"  Bitterness,  say  you,  Mistress  Probity?  It  is  as 
sweet  as  the  language  which  called  it  forth.  And  it  is 
not  more  bitter  than  the  lot  of  that  poor  child.  If  you 
want  to  set  your  eyes  on  bitterness,  look  at  the  bitter 
injustice  of  that." 

"  I  put  aside  your  recrimination,"  said  Probity. 
"  Will  you  do  me  the  favour  to  tell  me  all  you  know  of 
Aveline's  movements." 

"  Aye,  and  that  is  quickly  told.  I  do  not  know 
whether  she  is  in  the  manor  house  or  not,  for  I  have 
not  looked.  But  I  know  that  she  told  me  she  might 
have  a  duty  to  perform  for  madam,  and  if  it  should 
keep  her  away  for  a  time,  she  would  return  when  it  was 
accomplished." 

"When  did  she  tell  you  this?"  demanded  Geysbert. 

"  Last  night." 

"  She  has  gone  to  New  York  on  that  fool's  errand, 
the  clearing  of  Helmer,"  he  said.  "A  boat  passed 
here  late  in  the  afternoon.  Ten  to  one  she  joined  it  at 
.Kingston." 

"  You  will  let  her  go?  "  questioned  Probity. 

'♦  That  will  I  not." 

He  went  out,  and  they  saw  him  no  more  that  day. 
But  when  he  had  visited  Kingston  at  Esopus,  and  learned 
that  Aveline  had  not  joined  the  boat  there,  he  was  at  a 
loss.  He  returned  through  the  woods.  There  was  in 
his  heart  a  fear  that  she  had  lost  her  way,  and  might  be 


FREE   TO    SERVE  349 

wandering  there.     The  news  that  Tyte,  too,  was  missing, 
greeted  him  on  his  return. 

"  Then  her  absence  is  accounted  for,"  he  said.  "  That 
rascal  knows  the  forests  almost  as  well  as  an  Indian.  It 
would  not  be  impossible  that  she  should  have  embarked 
below  Esopus." 

His  mood  was  more  savage  than  when  he  started. 

"She  owes  it  to  me  to  return,  and  return  she  shall," 
he  said. 

"What  will  you  do,  cousin?"  asked  Probity. 

"  Do?     Go  after  her,  and  bring  her  back." 

"But  you  will  not  be  harsh  with  her?" 

His  laugh,  at  least,  was  harsh. 

"You  are  pleased  to  think  me  a  brute,"  he  said. 

It  was  on  the  fourth  evening  after  Aveline's  departure 
that  Geysbert  stepped  from  the  door  of  the  manor  house. 
His  heart  was  on  fire  with  bitter  impatience,  and  the 
quiet  of  the  evening  hour  was  distasteful  to  him.  He 
had  poured  out  a  brimming  horn  of  rum,  and  tossed  it 
down  his  throat.      It  steadied  his  nerves. 

Aveline  could  have  aimed  no  heavier  blow  at  Geysbert 
than  in  thus  leaving  his  protection.  True,  the  law  would 
give  him  the  right  to  bring  her  back,  by  force,  if  neces- 
sary, and  would  leave  her  subsequent  fate  in  his  hands. 
There  was  little  comfort,  however,  in  that  thought. 
Aveline's  act  brought  out  forcibly  the  relation  between 
them.  He  understood,  as  he  had  never  done  before, 
how  completely  she  belonged  to  his  brother,  and  the 
thought  exasperated  him.  To-morrow,  he  had  resolved, 
he  would  start  for  New  York. 

"  The  sun  is  growing  tired,  but  the  white  brother  rests 
not." 

The  face  of  the  Indian  squaw  who  spoke  broadened 
into  a  grin  at  sight  of  the  young  man.  The  visitor  had 
visions  of  hospitality  in  connection  with  the  manor  house. 
She  had  timed  her  visit  so  as  to  turn  those  visions  into 


350  FREE   TO    SERVE 

realities.  The  brooms  with  which  her  back  was  burdened 
were  fewer  in  number  than  when  she  traversed  the  forest 
in  early  morning.  She  had  visited  several  white  people's 
dwellings  since  then,  being  wise  enough  to  make  the 
manor  house  the  last  on  her  round.  The  Indian  squaw 
was  well  known  on  the  Feljer  estate,  and  her  brooms, 
made  by  splitting  birch  blocks  into  slender  filaments, 
were  in  great  request. 

"  Ah,  Karanondo,"  said  Geysbert  indifferently.  "  You 
are  late  with  your  brooms." 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  speaking  Dutch  easily,  "Kara- 
nondo is  late,  but  she  has  gone  far.  She  is  not  lazy, 
like  the  white  squaw  up  in  the  tepee." 

"  What  white  squaw?  " 

Geysbert  was  not  indifferent  now. 

Karanondo  pointed  upwards,  towards  the  mountain. 

"  Yonder,"  she  said.  "  It  takes  many  tepees  for  few 
people.  One  tepee  for  sick  white  man,  one  for  white 
squaw,  and  one  for  black  negro  rascal." 

Geysbert's  hand  was  clenched,  so  that  the  nails  hurt 
the  flesh.  He  restrained  his  tongue,  even  after  the 
squaw  relapsed  into  silence. 

"  Did  you  pass  there  this  morning?  "  he  asked,  and 
he  fought  hard  for  such  composure  as  should  leave  him 
unbetrayed  to  the  keen  eyes  of  the  squaw. 

"  When  the  sun  was  waking,"  was  the  answer. 

"  The  old  tepees  on  the  edge  of  the  mountain?  " 

Karanondo  nodded. 

"And  you  sold  some  brooms  up  yonder,  did  you?  " 
asked  Geysbert,  in  a  tone  of  affected  indifference. 

A  broad  grin  illumined  the  squaw's  face. 

"  They  want  no  brooms  in  tepee,"  she  said.  "  They 
all  asleep." 

Geysbert  laughed. 

"  Well,  how  man)'  brooms  have  you?  "  he  asked. 


FREE    TO    SERVE  351 

He  bought  the  rest  of  her  stock,  and  when  he  paid 
her,  he  gave  her  a  small  present  besides. 

"  Don't  let  your  tongue  wag  further  about  the  white 
man  in  the  tepee,"  he  said  significantly.  "  Karanondo 
is  wise." 

She  nodded  and  grunted. 

"  Karanondo  is  wise,"  she  said,  and  looked  at  him 
steadily.  Then  she  turned  away  to  deliver  her  brooms. 
The  manor  house  and  a  good  meal  were  the  next  items 
in  the  programme. 

Geysbert  strode  to  the  barn.  His  brain  was  on  fire. 
Aveline  was  with  Helmer.  The  thought  maddened  him. 
He  set  his  teeth  together.  At  that  moment  he  hated 
his  brother  as  he  had  never  hated  human  being   before. 

Towards  Aveline  his  heart  was  hard.  She  had  defied 
him,  left  his  home,  gone  to  Helmer.  That  was  the 
crowning  offence.  He  did  not  stop  to  think.  There 
was  at  no  one  moment  the  slightest  irresolution.  He 
was  saddling  for  himself  a  horse,  the  fastest  of  them 
all.  When  he  was  ready  to  mount  he  led  it  round  to 
the  house,  and  enterir^  drank  another  horn  of  rum. 
He  set  the  horn  down,  hesitated,  partially  filled,  and 
drained  it  again.  Then  he  strode  through  the  kitchen. 
Ryseck  was  there,  and  he  accosted  her.  She  held  a 
pewter  bottle  in  her  hand,  the  same  she  had  brandished 
in  Philip's  face  when  she  grew  eloquent  over  Geysbert's 
sins. 

"  I  have  cause  to  go  up  the  mountain,"  he  said.  "  I 
shall  not  be  back  till  late." 

"  As  you  say,"  replied  Ryseck. 

"  Oh,  and  you  may  as  well  give  me  that  bottle.  It 
will  serve  me  well." 

Ryseck  looked  at  him  closely.  '*  Better  have  less  to 
do  with  bottles,"  she  said,  but  she  handed  it  to  him. 
He  returned  to  the  sideboard,  and  filled  it  with  rum, 
taking  another  draught  himself  before  going  out. 


352  FREE   TO    SERVE 

His  brain  had  been  on  fire  before,  and  his  deep  drink- 
ing had  not  cooled  it,  though  it  had  answered  the  pur- 
pose of  taking  away  his  nervousness.  His  hand  no 
longer  shook,  as  it  had  done  when  he  saddled  his  horse. 
He  sprang  upon  the  animal's  back,  rode  a  few  steps, 
and  then  drew  rein.  An  object  had  caught  his  eye. 
It  was  a  coil  of  rope  lying  conveniently  near.  He 
stooped  low  and  reached  it,  placing  it  on  the  saddle 
before  him. 

"  It  may  prove  useful,"  he  said  aloud,  and  ended  with 
a  savage  laugh. 

As  he  turned  from  the  broad  road  that  passed  the 
manor  house,  Helmer's  dog  Kip  perceived  him,  and 
came  bounding  towards  him.  Kip  had  been  disconso- 
late since  Aveline's  departure.  He  had  sought  her  up 
and  down  the  premises,  and  his  eyes  had  grown  wistful 
and  sad.  Either  he  was  to-night  especially  lonely,  or 
he  connected  Geysbert's  late  ride  with  Aveline,  for  he 
followed  persistently. 

"  Go  back  with  you  !  "  commanded  Geysbert,  but  Kip 
only  dropped  behind,  and  followed  at  a  distance. 

At  first  Geysbert  rode  fast,  but  as  he  entered  the  forest 
he  slackened  speed,  and  let  his  horse  walk.  He  was 
allowing  the  bitterness  of  his  anger  to  gather  strength, 
brooding  in  dangerous  silence.  The  sun  was  down  be- 
fore he  came  to  that  part  of  the  way  where  the  path 
narrowed  along  a  rocky  ledge,  where  was  a  dip  sheer 
into  the  ravine  below.  It  was  a  picturesque  spot,  with 
the  shadows  gathering  about  it  on  this  June  evening,  but 
it  would  have  been  a  dangerous  one  if  his  horse  had  not 
proved  trustworthy.  That  passed,  he  put  the  animal  to 
a  canter,  and  made  good  progress  over  the  rough  track. 
Kip  going  ahead. 

When  the  last  ray  of  sunlight  had  touched  the  tops 
of  the  trees  beyond  the  camp,  and  twilight  was  deepen- 
ing, Aveline  left  the  tepee  where  Helmer  was  asleep,  and 


FREE    TO    SERVE  353 

set  out  to  bring  water  from  the  mountain  stream  a  few 
yards  below.  She  lifted  her  head,  and  drank  in  the  soft 
June  air  eagerly.  It  was  very  free  and  fresh  up  here. 
As  she  stooped  at  the  stream,  something  came  bounding 
towards  her. 

"  Kip  !      Dear  old  Kip  !  "  she  cried. 

The  dog  overwhelmed  her  with  caresses.  He  was 
frantic  with  joy.  He  had  hunted  for  her  so  persistently, 
and  he  had  found  her  at  last. 

"  Gently,  Kip,"  she  said,  as  she  put  him  aside  to  look 
down  the  mountain  path.  From  where  she  stood  she 
could  see  it  more  than  half  a  mile  below,  and  in  spite  of 
the  gathering  gloom  she  perceived  a  horseman.  For 
one  moment  her  heart  failed  her.  It  seemed  to  contract, 
as  if  to  choke  her.  Then  with  an  effort  she  turned,  and 
walked  quickly  up  towards  the  tepee. 

"  Tyte,"  she  called  softly. 

"  Yes,  missy." 

"  Yonder  is  Mr.  Geysbert.  Do  not  let  him  see  you. 
He  will  be  angry,  and  you  know  what  that  may  mean. 
Go  and  hide  until  he  is  gone.  And  be  sure  not  to  tell 
Mr.  Helmer;  it  would  worry  him.  I  am  going  to  meet 
Mr.  Geysbert." 

"  Yes,  missy,"  said  Tyte,  in  an  awe-struck  tone.  "  He'll 
be  angry,  sure." 

At  that  moment  Kip  uttered  a  sharp  whine,  and  started 
for  the  tepee.  He  had  made  a  discovery  which  sent  his 
longing  heart  into  raptures  of  joy.  But,  alas  !  Ave- 
line's  voice  called  him  back. 

*'  No,  no,  Kip.  Not  yet,"  she  said.  "  He  is  there, 
but  you  must  not  go  in." 

She  put  her  arms  about  the  dog's  neck.  If  Helmer 
saw  Kip,  he  would  guess  that  his  brother  was  coming. 
Her  one  object  was  to  prevent  them  from  meeting. 

"  Dear,  good  Kip,  come  !  "  she  said. 

The  dog  hesitated,  whined  mournfully,  and  followed 


354  FREE   TO    SERVE 

her.  As  soon  as  she  was  out  of  sight  of  the  tepee  she 
quickened  her  steps  to  a  run.  She  must  meet  Geysbert 
as  far  away  from  the  camp  as  possible.  She  was  stand- 
ing in  the  middle  of  the  path  when  he  saw  her  —  wait- 
ing for  him. 

"  You  are  here  !  "  he  said,  and  the  sound  came  from 
between  his  closed  teeth. 

"  Yes.     I  am  here." 

She  lifted  her  face  to  his.  The  evening  light  fell  upon 
it,  and  the  beauty  of  it  smote  him.  He  leant  forward, 
bending  towards  her. 

"  Come  back,"  he  said,  "  and  I  will  forgive  you." 

It  was  not  what  he  had  meant  to  say,  but  it  was  forced 
from  him. 

"  When  my  work  is  done,  I  will  come,"  she  replied 
calmly.  "I  have  no  intention  of  defrauding  you,  Geys- 
bert Feljer." 

"You  will  come  now,"  he  rejoined,  and  the  softer 
look  vanished  from  his  face. 

"  That  will  I  not." 

"  I  demand  it." 

"  And  I  refuse." 

"You  refuse  to  return  with  me,  your  —  master?" 

The  last  word  was  spoken  doubtfully.  Aveline's 
eyes  flashed,  but  she  answered  steadily  and  quietly. 

"I  refuse  to  return  with  you  —  my  master." 

"You  are  not  free  to  refuse,"  he  said,  striving  after  a 
calmness  that  should  rival  her  own. 

"I  am  not  free  —  no.  Yet  my  very  bondage  is  here 
my  excuse.  It  is  bondage  and  freedom  in  one  I  am 
free  to  serve  her  whom  I  am  bound  to  serve.  I  am 
to-day  in  the  service  of  madam  —  my  mistress." 

"  Nay,  you  came  to  serve  that  outcast  —  that  murderer 
—  Heliner  Feljer." 

"  As  you  will,"  she  said. 

His  calmness  was  vanishing. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  355 

"  You  claim  to  be  free,"  he  said,  "yet  in  the  eyes  of 
the  law  have  you  no  right  to  quit  my  service.  Of  this 
I  warn  you." 

"  I  claim  to  be  free  to  serve  any  of  madam's  fam- 
ily, and  most  of  all  the  one  who  needs  me  most,"  she 
said. 

"Then  serve  me.  I  need  you  more  than  any  other. 
Serve  me,  and  I  swear  it  shall  be  serving  Helmer  too." 

She  understood  him,  and  shook  her  head. 

"  Do  you  know  why  I  came?  "  she  asked. 

"  To  care  for  him,"  he  said  bitterly. 

"  Did  you  know  he  was  ill?  " 

"  Not  till  to-day." 

"  It  might  well  have  been  death,  instead  of  sickness," 
she  said,  "  it  came  so  near." 

"  A  pity  it  were  not,"  he  replied. 

She  looked  at  him,  startled.    Then  her  face  hardened. 

"You  think  so?"  she  said.  "Then  we  are  little 
likely  to  agree.  " 

"  No,  we  are  little  likely  to  agree,"  he  replied,  and  his 
eyes  flashed  dangerously.  "  But  we  are  likely  to  bring 
this  contest  to  an  end.  If  you  will  not  come  of  your 
own  free  will,  you   must  come  without  it." 

He  sprang  from  his  horse  as  he  spoke,  and  before 
she  had  divined  his  intent,  he  swooped  down  upon  her, 
lifted  her  as  if  she  had  been  a  baby,  and  tossed  her  up 
on  the  back  of  his  horse.  The  movement  took  her  by 
surprise,  yet  she  was  too  quick  for  him.  As  his  hold 
relaxed,  she  gave  a  sudden  jerk,  and  slid  down  on  the 
other  side.     Then  she  turned  and  confronted  him. 

"  Coward  !  "  she  said,  "  to  lay  hands  on  a  woman. 
It  is  well  your  father  is  in  his  grave.  He  has  at  least 
been  spared  the  pain  of  such  disgrace." 

He  felt  the  scorn  in  her  voice,  and  it  stung  him.  He 
stood  glowering  at  her.  Then  his  passion  burst  out 
afresh. 


356  FREE    TO    SERVE 

"  Voit  talk  of  disgrace,"  he  said.  "  y^ou  /  And  that 
after  running  from  your  duty  to  seek  the  company  of  a 
homeless  wanderer,  a  murderer,  curse  him  !  " 

"  Your  curse  will  return  on  your  own  head,"  said 
Aveline  hotly.  "  And  as  for  the  title  you  give  your 
brother,  you  come  nearer  meriting  it  yourself,  with 
your  raging  passion,  than  ever  he  has  done." 

She  stood  looking  into  his  face,  her  own  alight  with 
indignation  and  scorn.  It  would  not  be  true  to  say  that 
she  felt  no  fear  for  her  personal  safety.  It  was  evident 
that  Geysbert  had  been  drinking,  and  she  divined  the 
object  of  his  drinking.  In  such  condition  Geysbert 
Feljer  was  not  a  pleasant  companion,  nor  a  safe  one. 
Yet  at  that  moment  scorn  was  stronger  than  fear.  It 
was  the  reality  of  the  contempt  that  gave  it  force, 
and  sent  it  home  to  the  drink-numbed  brain  of  the 
young  man.     It  aroused  him  to  wilder  jealousy. 

He  7nust  make  an  impression  on  this  girl  who  defied 
alike  his  love  and  his  anger.  He  would  make  that 
impression,  let  the  consequences  be  what  they  might. 
She  should  feel  his  power,  though  she  scorned  his  affec- 
tion. To  do  him  justice,  he  hardly  knew  what  he  said. 
He  was  beside  himself  with  rage  and  jealousy.  He 
turned  upon  her. 

"  Get  you  upon  that  horse,"  he  cried,  "  and  return  to 
your  duty.  I  will  have  no  bond-servant  of  mine  attend- 
ing upon  a  murderer  and  a  beggar.  As  for  him  —  he 
shall  get  his  deserts." 

"  When  deserts  are  dealt  out,  it  is  you  who  will  need 
to  fear,"  said  Aveline.  "As  for  returning  with  you,  I 
tell  you   plainly  I   will  not." 

"  And  I  say  you  shall." 

He  advanced,  as  if  to  lift  her  a  second  time  in  his 
arms,  but  she  evaded  him,  and  stood  a  short  distance 
off,  facing  him  again. 

"  Go  your  way,  and  sleep  off  the  effects  of  the  drink 


FREE   TO    SERVE  357 

you  have  taken,  and  then,  if  there  be  any  manhood  left 
in  you,  you  will  think  better  of  this,"  she  said  imperi- 
ously. "  As  for  me,  I  shall  do  my  duty  as  your  mother 
herself  would  have  bidden  me.  Your  brother's  life 
depends  on  the  care  he  receives." 

She  turned  from  him,  and  took  a  step  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  tepee.  That  step  was  a  mistake.  The 
moment  her  back  was  turned,  her  influence  over 
Geysbert  was  lessened.  She  heard  him  following,  and 
before  she  could  look  round  she  felt  his  arm  about  her 
waist. 

"  There  shall  be  an  end  of  this,"  he  said.  "  I  will  let 
you  know  who  is  master." 

"  Do  your  worst,  Geysbert  Feljer,"  she  said,  turning 
again.     "  I  will  never  ride  behind  you." 

"  Nay,  jade,  that  you  shall  not.  I  swear  it.  You 
shall  take  the  place  that  belongs  to  you,  and  run  behind 
your  master." 

Rage  and  jealousy  and  drink  combined,  had  done 
their  work.  Geysbert  had  lost  all  control  of  himself. 
He  seized  the  rope  which  lay  upon  the  saddle,  and 
with  blind  fury  flung  a  noose  over  her  head,  drawing  it 
tight  about  her  waist.  Then,  still  holding  her  hands, 
which  he  had  grasped  when  she  turned  towards  him,  he 
took  a  shorter  and  thinner  rope  from  his  pocket  and 
twisted  it  about  her  wrists,  binding  them  close  together, 
regardless  of  how  the  rope  cut  into  the  soft  flesh. 

"There,  slave,  now  learn  to  obey  your  master,"  he 
hissed  in  her  ear,  and  mounting  his  horse,  while  still 
holding  the  end  of  the  longer  rope,  he  dug  his  heels 
into  the  animal's  sides. 

The  pretty  creature  bounded  into  the  air,  and  then 
started  at  a  rapid  pace.  For  a  moment  the  rope  hung 
loosely,  then  it  tightened,  and  Aveline  was  dragged  to 
the  ground.  She  repressed  the  cry  vvliich  rose  to  her 
lips.     Even  now  her  first  thought  was  of  Helmer.      He 


358  FREE    TO    SERVE 

must  know  nothing  of  this.  For  him  to  witness  such  a 
scene  would  mean  death  to  one  of  the  brothers. 

Kip  was  less  thoughtful.  He  uttered  a  short  angry- 
snarl,  and  sprang  towards  Aveline,  biting  and  tugging 
at  the  tightened  rope  which  dragged  her  mercilessly 
along  the  path,  fortunately  here  grassy  and  soft.  Ave- 
line struggled  to  regain  her  feet,  but  the  horse  was 
going  too  fast.  Kip  gave  vent  to  a  sharp  yelp  of  fear. 
That  cry  aroused  Geysbert  to  a  sense  of  danger.  Even 
in  his  drunken  fury  he  had  no  desire  to  kill  Aveline. 
Mad  jealousy  had  urged  him  to  show  his  power,  but 
now,  in  the  moment  of  victory,  he  had  just  sense 
enough  left  to  prompt  him  to  a  measure  of  modera- 
tion. He  reined  in  his  horse  and  brought  it  to  a  walk. 
Then  he  looked  back.  The  sight  of  that  heap  on  the 
path  gave  him  a  feeling  of  savage  pleasure.  This  was 
his  revenge.  It  was  sweet  to  his  wounded  pride.  Ave- 
line would  never  dare  to  disobey  him  again.  It  would 
be  a  salutary  lesson.  As  he  looked  he  saw  a  move- 
ment in  that  dragging  object.  By  a  great  effort  the 
girl  sprang  to  her  feet.  The  moon,  which  had  risen, 
shone  on  her  white  face.  The  sight  of  it  frightened 
him.  He  must  have  something  to  keep  up  his  cour- 
age. He  had  set  out  to  subdue  this  girl,  to  establish 
his  authority  over  her,  and  these  fears,  which  assailed 
him  unbidden,  must  be  thrust  away.  He  raised  Ry- 
seck's  bottle  to  his  lips,  and  took  a  long,  deep  draught. 
Then,  as  the  warmth  ran  through  his  veins,  he  looked 
back  again. 

"Now  do  you  know  who  is  your  master,  wench?  " 
he  asked. 

There  was  no  answer,  except  a  low  growl  from  Kip. 
The  dog  was  racing  round  Aveline  in  vain  attempts  to 
free  her  from  the  rope.     Geysbert  laughed  sardonically. 

"  What?     You  are  not  subdued  yet?"  he  said. 

He  shook  the  reins  on  his  horse's  neck.     The  obedi- 


FREE    TO    SERVE 


359 


ent  animal  started  into  a  canter,  and  he  turned  his  at- 
tention to  the  path  before  him, 

Aveline  exerted  all  her  strength  to  keep  up  with  the 
horse.  The  pace  was  not  as  fast  as  before,  but  she 
knew  the  race  could  not  last  long.  The  path  had  be- 
come rocky  and  uneven.  To  be  dragged  upon  it  would 
mean  death.  She  was  bruised  and  shaken  already, 
though  not  seriously  hurt.  But  now  the  track  grew 
more  rugged  at  every  turn.  One  misstep,  and  not  her 
own  life  alone,  but  possibly  Helmer's  also,  would  be 
the  price.  Her  brain  worked  fast.  There  was  a  dark 
piece  of  road  ahead,  a  terrible  piece  of  road.  She  re- 
membered it  well.  Rough  rocks  cropped  up  in  the 
way,  and  overhanging  trees  made  it  dark  and  gloomy, 
so  that  the  feet  might  well  stumble.  There  were  tree 
trunks,  too,  overturned  and  rotting,  encroaching  on  the 
narrow  path,  and  farther  on  the  road  became  a  mere 
shelf  on  the  edge  of  the  ledge.  Below  the  shelf  the 
rock  dipped  sheer  down  for  seventy  feet  and  more. 
Terror  of  that  spot  was  upon  her.  She  dropped  her 
hands  down  before  her.  Then  a  thought  came.  In 
the  pocket  of  her  apron  was  a  knive,  one  that  had  been 
Helmer's  gift.  Her  finger-tips  could  almost  touch  it. 
She  bent  forward  as  she  ran,  and  succeeded  in  getting 
it  between  her  fingers.  To  lift  it  to  her  mouth,  and 
then  hold  it  in  her  teeth  and  saw  through  the  rope 
which  bound  her  wrists,  was  a  work  requiring  time  and 
caution.  Luckily,  Geysbert  was  riding  more  slowly 
now,  and  at  last  the  work  was  done,  but  not  before  one 
wrist  was  badly  gashed  and  bleeding.  Then  she  slowly 
loosened  the  noose  which  held  her,  and  slipped  it  over 
her  head.  She  was  free,  but  she  was  not  safe.  Geys- 
bert would  feel  the  sudden  loss  of  weight,  should  she 
relax  her  hold  on  the  rope.  She  held  it  firmly,  pulling 
upon  it  that  he  might  not  perceive  that  she  was  no 
longer  a  prisoner. 


36o  FREE    TO    SERVE 

Presently  she  raised  her  head,  and  her  eye  fell  on  a 
patch  of  light  some  distance  ahead.  The  light  revealed 
a  short  log,  lying  so  near  to  the  middle  of  the  path  that 
it  seemed  not  impossible  to  touch  it  as  she  passed.  The 
sight  of  it  gave  her  an  inspiration.  Could  she  reach 
that  log,  and  have  time  to  slip  the  rope  around  it? 
If  so,  it  might  be  made  to  take  her  place.  She  put  forth 
all  her  strength  to  gain  on  the  horse.  Two  or  three 
moments  would  suffice.  The  exertion  caused  the  veins 
to  stand  out  on  her  forehead.  It  seemed  to  her  that 
she  was  not  even  holding  her  own.  But  bit  by  bit  she 
gained.  The  rope  was  slack.  She  was  almost  oppo- 
site the  log.  With  a  final  effort  she  darted  to  one  side, 
slipped  the  noose  over  the  end,  and  pushed  it  under 
the  log  until  her  fingers  were  crushed  and  bleeding. 
There  was  a  quick  jerk,  a  hitch,  and  then  the  log  moved 
off  with  a  thump.  Aveline  dropped  down  into  a  clump 
of  bushes.     Kip  stopped  too. 

"  No,  no.  Kip  !  Good,  unselfish  Kip,  you  must  go," 
said  Aveline,  in  a  low,  pleading  tone.  "  He  will  see 
you,  and  think  that  all  is  as  before.      Go  !      Oh,  go  !  " 

She  put  her  hand  on  his  head,  and  pointed  after  the 
retreating  horse.  Kip  understood.  He  looked  wist- 
fully in  her  face,  put  his  big  tongue  to  it,  and  raced 
after  the  horseman. 

The  road  grew  dark  with  the  shadow  of  the  trees. 
Geysbert  found  it  necessary  to  ride  cautiously.  The 
rum  was  taking  effect.  His  brain  became  momentarily 
cloudier,  but  as  it  did  so,  his  desire  for  revenge  in- 
creased. 

"  You'll  defy  me,  will  you  —  and  for  him?  "  he  mut- 
tered. "  Aye,  for  him  !  It'll  take  a  lesson  to  teach 
you  —  but  I'll  do  it.  Get  up  there!  Show  the  stuff 
you're  made  of." 

He  twisted  the  rope  into  the  harness,  and  gave  the 
horse  a  sharp  cut  with  his  whip,  at  the  same  moment 


FREE   TO    SERVE  361 

glancing  over  his  shoulder  at  the  dark  body  upon  the 
road  in  the  shadow  behind.  The  horse  started,  stepped 
upon  a  loose  stone,  swerved,  and  the  next  moment 
there  was  a  sharp  human-sounding  cry,  and  the  creat- 
ure was  pulled  back  upon  its  haunches.  The  rider 
looked  round  to  see  the  rope  tightened  to  its  utmost 
tension,  and  hanging  over  into  the  ravine.  The  horse 
struggled  and  tried  to  move  forward,  and  the  rope,  that 
was  stretched  over  a  sharp,  jagged  edge  of  rock,  swayed 
and  strained. 

"  Ho!     Stand  still  there!  " 

A  pang  of  fear  shot  through  Geysbert's  heart. 
Aveline?  Where  was  she?  He  looked  in  horror  at 
the  tightened  rope.  She  was  hanging  at  the  other  end 
of  it,  dangling  over  the  precipice.  His  face  was  dis- 
torted with  fear,  and  great  drops  stood  out  on  his  fore- 
head. He  hastily  dismounted,  but  agitation,  and  the 
effects  of  his  potations,  made  him  stagger.  He  put  his 
hand  on  the  horse's  neck  to  steady  himself.  The  ex- 
cited creature,  thinking  he  meant  to  incite  her  to  fresh 
efforts,  sprang  forward  again.  The  rope  strained  and 
creaked,  the  sharp  edges  of  the  rock  cutting  into  it 
more  deeply.     Geysbert  was  thrown  to  the  ground. 

"  Ho,  you  brute  !      Stand  still,  I  tell  you  !  " 

The  horse  obeyed.  Geysbert  regained  his  feet,  and 
staggered  to  the  edge  of  the  cliff.  What  he  saw  there 
took  away  the  last  vestige  of  self-control.  A  single 
strand  of  rope  was  left.  The  rest  was  cut  through. 
While  he  was  looking  at  it,  horror  overpowering  him,  it 
parted,  drawing  itself  out  for  an  instant.  Then  there  was 
a  dull  thud,  and  the  crashing  sound  of  a  heavy  object 
breaking  its  way  down  into  the  ravine.  He  stood  star- 
ing into  the  dark  abyss,  dazed,  helpless.  The  dog  was 
gone.  After  that  one  fearful  cry  there  had  come  no 
other  from  below. 

"  Aveline !  " 


362  FREE   TO    SERVE 

The  voice  was  hoarse.  Geysbert  bent  over  the  preci- 
pice. Then  he  drew  back  hastily.  An  uncontrollable 
terror  was  cutting  its  way  into  the  dazed  brain.  Aveline 
was  dead,  and  he  had  killed  her.  He  stood  listenint^, 
but  there  came  no  answer.  In  a  frenzy  of  fear  he  fled 
towards  his  horse,  putting  his  hand  on  the  warm  flesh. 
In  doing  so,  he  touched  the  pewter  bottle,  not  yet 
drained.  With  a  low  cry  he  clutched  it,  though  his 
trembling  hand  almost  refused  to  raise  it  to  his  lips. 
When  he  took  his  lips  from  the  bottle,  it  was  empty. 
Once  again,  in  the  strength  of  that  draught,  he  went  to 
the  edge  of  the  ravine,  flinging  himself  on  the  ground, 
and  peering  over. 

"  Aveline !  Aveline !  "  he  called,  but  the  silence 
mocked  him.  He  turned  back  and  mounted  his  horse. 
The  wise  animal  did  the  rest.  When  she  stopped  before 
the  door  of  the  barn,  her  master  lay  a  helpless  weight  on 
her  neck,  clutching  her  mane  in  his  stiffened  hand.  A 
rope  dragged  at  her  heels —  a  rope  stained  with  blood. 

The  manor  house  was  asleep,  even  to  the  negro  whose 
duty  it  was  to  stay  up  to  attend  to  Geysbert's  horse. 
But  he  was  asleep  in  the  barn,  and  the  door  was  open. 
The  sagacious  animal  stepped  inside,  and  stopped  by 
the  stall  she  claimed  as  her  own.  Then  she  waited  for 
her  master  to  dismoimt.  More  than  once,  in  the  hours 
that  followed,  she  impatiently  pawed  the  ground.  She 
deemed  that  her  resting  time  was  being  encroached  upon. 
At  last  she  gave  a  low  whinny  of  appeal,  shaking  her 
neck  impatiently.  The  shake  and  the  whinny  both  had 
effect,  the  first  in  dislodging  the  sleeping  man,  the 
second  in  reaching  Probity's  ears.  The  girl  stepped 
into  the  barn  just  as  Geysbert,  half-roused,  slipped 
heavily  to  the  floor.  Probity  had  been  anxious  and 
restless  that  night.  She  had  tried  to  sleep,  and  failed. 
Geysbert's  absence  worried  her.  Hours  ago  she  thought 
she  heard  the  step  of  a  horse,  but  all  had  been  silent 


FREE   TO    SERVE  363 

since,  and  Geysbert  had  not  come  in.  Now  the  first 
faint  streak  of  light  was  in  the  sky.  She  could  keep 
quiet  no  longer.  She  rose,  and  stole  softly  out.  As 
she  reached  the  barn  she  heard  the  whinny  of  the  horse, 
and  was  in  time  to  see  Geysbert  collapse,  a  helpless  heap, 
on  the  floor. 

"  Geysbert !      Cousin  Geysbert !  " 

He  looked  up  in  stupid  surprise.  Above  them,  in  the 
hay,  the  negro  snored  loudly. 

"  Where  have  you  been,  cousin,"  asked  Probity 
gently,  "and  why  are  you  so  late?" 

"Late?"  He  looked  at  her  again.  His  hand  slowly 
travelled  to  his  head. 

"  She  is  dead  !  "  he  said.      "  I've  done  for  her." 

"  Whom?     What  do  you  mean?" 

Probity's  eyes  grew  deep  with  horror.  Was  her 
cousin  simply  raving,  or  had  there  indeed  been  a  trag- 
edy enacted  in  the  darkness  ? 

The  horse,  freed  from  its  burden,  was  impatient  to 
enter  the  stall,  before  which  Probity  stood.  Feeling  that 
strong  measures  were  necessary,  it  gently  rubbed  its  head 
against  her  shoulder.  She  turned,  stepped  aside,  and 
saw  the  rope.  The  next  thing  Probity  did  was  to  light 
a  lantern,  and  examine  that  rope.  It  was  yet  wet,  and 
when  she  touched  it  she  drew  back  her  hands  with  a  sup- 
pressed cry.     They  were  red  with  blood. 

"  Geysbert,  dear  Geysbert,  what  does  it  mean?  " 

She  turned  to  her  cousin  again,  but  he  was  fast  asleep. 
She  shook  him,  and  called  to  him,  but  to  no  purpose. 
Then  she  returned  to  the  horse.  The  trailing  rope,  jag- 
ged and  ragged  at  the  end,  fascinated  and  horrified  her. 
She  felt  as  if  she  could  not  touch  it.  But  when  there 
came  a  sound  from  above,  as  if  the  negro  were  waking, 
she  hastily  approached  it  again.  Quickly,  and  with 
skilful  hands,  she  removed  the  saddle  from  the  horse, 
and  unfastened  the  rope.     As  she  lifted  the  saddle,  a  bit 


364  FREE   TO    SERVE 

of  woollen  rag  caught  her  eye.  She  took  it  in  her  hand 
It  was  a  scrap  of  a  woman's  dress.  For  many  minutes 
after  that  Probity  stood  as  if  stunned.  Her  hand  closed 
about  the  scrap  of  woollen  cloth,  and  her  heart  grew 
cold.  At  last  she  turned,  put  away  the  saddle,  and 
carefully  gathered  up  the  rope.  The  dawn  had  not  yet 
broken.  Probity  gave  one  long  look  at  her  cousin  as 
she  passed.  Then  she  left  the  barn.  It  was  half  an  hour 
later  when  she  entered  the  manor  house,  and  before  she 
did  so,  a  ragged  length  of  rope  sank  into  the  waters  of 
the  Hudson,  far  out  in  the  middle  of  the  channel. 


FREE  TO  SERVE  36; 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

AT  precisely  the  usual  hour  Probity  sat  down  to 
breakfast  —  alone. 
"  Better  not  wait  for  Mr.  Geysbert.  He's  tak- 
ing his  night's  rest  in  the  barn —  in  the  morning,"  said 
Ryseck  drily.  So  much  she  had  learned  from  the 
negroes. 

"  No.      I  was  not  thinking  of  waiting." 

Probity  put  a  few  finishing  touches  to  the  table,  and 
sat  down.  She  even  forced  herself  to  eat.  Unre- 
strained emotion  was  in  Probity's  eyes  a  sign  of  the 
lack  of  that  self-discipline  which  was  part,  and  a  large 
part,  of  the  duty  of  man.  The  food  did  not  choke 
her.  But  when  she  lifted  the  cup  to  her  lips,  she  set  it 
back  again  hastily.  There  was  a  weight  resting  on  her, 
and  pressing  her  down — the  weight  of  a  terrible 
tragedy,  and  of  a  sin.  The  sin  was  her  own.  The 
memory  of  that  rope,  washed  clean  by  the  water  of  the 
river,  was  heavy  on  her  conscience.  Justice  was  crying 
aloud,  upbraiding  her  with  having  sought  to  cover  a 
crime.  And  she  pleaded  guilty.  Love  for  her  cousin, 
the  desire  to  shield  him  from  the  consequences  of  an 
act  which  she  did  not  understand,  but  of  which  she 
suspected  the  worst,  had  quickened  her  steps,  and 
nerved  the  arm  that  had  consigned  the  criminating  rope 
to  a  safe  burial.  Now,  when  the  deed  was  done,  she 
quailed  before  the  sharp  thrusts  of  conscience. 

"  To  allow  natural  affection  to  defraud  justice,  and 
turn  away  from  the  evil-doer  the  rightful  punishment  of 
his  crime,  is  to  be  partaker  of  his  deed,  and  to  commit 
heinous  sin,"  said  that  well-trained  mentor. 

Probity  did    not  deny  the   conclusion.     She  was    not 


366  FREE    TO    SERVE 

inclined  to  turn  away  the  punishment  of  her  own  sin. 
She  looked  the  sin  in  the  face,  and  acknowledged  it. 
It  was  hers  —  Probity  Thaxter's.  Her  integrity  had 
failed.  Love  for  her  cousin  Geysbert  had  been  weighed 
together  with  the  principle  of  a  life,  and  by  the  side  of 
love,  principle  had  been  light.  Probity  had  ever  loved 
justice,  but  there  had  come  a  time  when  she  loved  her 
cousin  better.  She  stood  up  before  herself  a  con- 
demned sinner.  And  yet,  in  spite  of  the  condemnation, 
she  was  not  sorry  that  the  rope  could  tell  no  tales.  If 
at  that  moment  Probity  had  again  stood  by  Geysbert's 
horse,  and  fixed  her  horrified  eyes  on  the  damp  frayed 
evidence  of  a  violent  deed,  that  evidence  would  have 
been  left  to  do  its  work  of  crimination.  Probity  would 
have  entered  the  manor  house  and  left  it  where  it  hung 
—  a  proof  of  her  cousin's  guilt.  So  far  the  convictions 
of  her  soul  had  reasserted  their  sway.  But  she  had  not 
reached  the  point  at  which  she  desired  to  stand  again  at 
the  parting  of  the  ways,  and  have  a  chance  to  keep  her 
feet  in  the  path  of  rectitude.  She  was  humiliated  and 
sorrowful  over  her  own  failure,  oppressed  with  a  sense 
of  guilt,  and  yet  —  at  heart  —  relieved  that  the  rope  was 
hidden. 

She  went  about  her  duties  abstractedly,  in  the  con- 
stant presence  of  an  accusing  conscience  and  a  great 
dread.  She  did  not  seek  Geysbert.  She  knew  that 
until  he  had  slept  off  the  effects  of  his  last  night's  drink- 
ing, he  would  be  in  no  fit  state  to  explain.  She  watched 
for  him  anxiously.  When  he  came  she  would  be  faith- 
ful, all  the  more  faithful  that  she  had  already  proved 
her  own  weakness.  But  when  it  drew  on  towards  noon, 
and  he  did  not  appear,  Probity  turned  her  steps  toward 
the  barn. 

"  Mars' r  Geysbert?  No,  missy.  He  went  away  to 
the  forest  as  soon  as  he  was  awake." 

"How  long  was  that  ago?"  she  asked. 


FREE    TO    SERVE  367 

"  Not  long,  missy.     No.     Not  many  minutes." 
^    Gone  to  the  forest,  to  look  on  the  scene  of  his  crime. 
Probity  walked  slowly  away,  but  when  she  was  out  of 
sight  of  the  negro,  she  quickened  her  pace.     And  she 
too  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  forest. 

There  was  a  dark  cloud  between  the  sun  and  the 
ravine  when  Geysbert  left  the  mountain  path,  and 
scrambled  down  below  the  ledge,  at  a  spot  where  the 
rock  was  less  precipitous  than  immediately  beyond.  The 
blackness  of  that  cloud  was  in  accordance  with  the  feel- 
ing of  Geysbert's  heart.  His  mind  was  hardly  yet  clear, 
but  memory  had  come  back  enough  to  torture  him.  His 
first  thought,  when  his  half-stupefied  brain  so  far  took 
in  the  surroundings  as  to  tell  him  that  he  had  not  slept 
in  his  bed  at  the  manor  house,  was  of  that  terrified  cry 
out  on  the  mountain  road  the  night  before.  He  sat  up, 
and  with  labour  struggled  to  his  feet.  That  cry?  What 
had  it  meant?  Where  was  Aveline?  Dead,  down  there 
in  the  ravine?  Great  drops  broke  out  on  his  forehead. 
He  brushed  them  away  with  his  hand.  What  had  he  done 
in  his  drunken  passion?  How  far  had  he  gone?  Was 
this  thing  a  nightmare,  born  of  his  too  free  association 
with  Ryseck's  pewter  bottle?  He  shook  his  head.  Then 
a  thought  came  to  him.  He  went  to  the  stall  where  his 
horse  stood.  The  affectionate  animal  whinnied,  but  his 
hand  offered  her  no  caress.  He  was  looking  for  a 
rope,  a  frayed  rope.  It  was  not  there.  His  hand  went 
up  to  his  head.  Who  had  unsaddled  his  horse?  He 
asked  the  question  of  the  negro  who  had  peacefully 
passed  his  night  in  the  hay  overhead. 

"  Nobody  but  yourself,  mars'r,"  replied  the  man 
boldly.      "  And  you  tell  me  to  go  to  bed,  and  I   go." 

Geysbert  examined  the  saddle.  It  was  in  its  proper 
place,  and  it  bore  no  mark  of  anything  unusual.  There 
was  no  rope  there,  to  all  appearance  never  had  been. 
Was  it  indeed  a  dream? 


368  FREE   TO    SERVE 

The  dull,  stupefied  brain  gradually  cleared,  and 
memory  brought  back,  bit  by  bit,  in  a  dim,  unreal 
fashion,  the  doings  of  the  night  before.  And  then, 
under  the  influence  of  a  deadly  terror,  Geysbert  started 
for  the  mountain  path.  What  had  he  done?  He  did 
not  know.  He  was  not  sure.  Aveline  might  be  yet 
alive  —  down  there  in  the  ravine. 

The  recklessness  with  which  he  crashed  through 
underbrush  and  scattered  rocks  might  have  cost  him 
more  than  the  scratches  and  bruises  of  which  he  was 
hardly  aware.  He  was  bent  on  getting  to  the  bottom, 
and  he  cared  little  about  the  consequences.  Once  there, 
he  pushed  his  way  along  until  he  stood  under  the  steep- 
est point  of  the  mountain  path,  and  looked  up  to  the 
sharp,  jagged  rock  where  last  night  —  if  his  brain  were 
not  playing  him  false — a  tightened  rope  had  held  by 
one  strand.  He  stood  staring  at  that  ledge.  Then  he 
began  to  climb.  Just  above  him  was  a  rock  shelf, 
broken  in  places,  and  crumbling.  Its  position  was  such 
that  it  might  well  have  arrested  the  fall  of  a  heavy 
object  from  above.  His  heart  stood  still  as  he  neared 
it,  and  looked  beyond  it  to  where,  overhead,  the  heavy 
rocks  frowned  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  thick  storm 
cloud.  When  he  balanced  himself  on  a  heap  of  broken 
stone,  and  brought  himself  to  a  level  with  that  lower 
rock  shelf,  a  sharp  cry  escaped  his  lips. 

"  Blood  !      Hers  !     And  it  is  wet !  " 

The  words  were  low  —  very  low.  His  fingers  touched 
the  stained  rock.  Great  clots  of  blood  were  lying  upon 
it.  Geysbert  shuddered,  swayed,  and  lost  his  footing, 
slipping  down  to  where  a  girl  stood  looking  up  at  him. 

"  Are  you  hurt,  cousin?  " 

"What?     You  here?  " 

"Yes.     I  saw  you  ahead  of  me,  and  I  followed." 

Probity's  voice  was  very  clear  and  quiet.  Her  eyes 
were  searching  Geysbert's  face. 


FREE    TO    SERVE  369 

'*  The  mischief  you  did  !  " 

"  The  mischief  hes  not  there,  cousin," 

Probity  spoke  solemnly. 

"  What  do  you  mean?  What  do  you  know  of  mis- 
chief ?  " 

"Not  as  much  as  you  can  tell  me,  truly,  but  enough 
to  destroy  my  peace,  and  to  show  me  that  the  house  of 
Feljer  has  indeed  fallen,  since  on  my  cousin's  soul  lies 
a  sin  at  thought  of  which  my  own  heart  recoils." 

"  You  speak  foolishness,"  said  Geysbert.  "  My  brain 
is  not  clear  enough  for  riddle-guessing.  Tell  me  plainly 
of  what  you  speak,  and  I  may  perchance  understand 
you." 

"Where  is  Aveline?  "  asked  Probity  suddenly. 

Geysbert  started  and  recoiled,  his  lips  moving  invol- 
untarily. 

"  You  ask  me  more  than  I  can  answer,"  he  said,  after 
a  perceptible  pause. 

"  And  yet  you  met  her  last  night." 

"You  have  no  proof  of  that." 

He  spoke  fiercely.  Probity's  eyes  were  fixed  on  his 
face. 

"  What  is  there  on  that  ledge?  "  she  asked. 

Again  he  faltered.  He  drew  himself  together  with  a 
manifest  effort. 

"  Dirt  and  rubbish  principally,"  he  said,  with  an  un- 
natural laugh. 

Before  he  had  finished  speaking.  Probity  had  sprung 
lightly  up  the  rock-strewn  slope. 

"  I  would  see  for  myself,"  she  said. 

"  Come  back !      You'll  break  your  neck." 

"  I  will  return  when  I  have  inspected  the  ledge,"  said 
Probity  calmly  and  emphatically. 

"  You  will  return  now.  Truly  your  interference  is 
unbearable." 

He  was  at  her  side,  but  not  before  she  had,   for  a 


370  FREE   TO    SERVE 

single  moment,  raised  her  head  above  the  level  of  the 
shelf.      She  allowed  Geysbert  to  lead  her  down. 

"  Whence  came  that  blood,  cousin?  " 

"  Blood?     Who  says  it  is  blood?  " 

"Is  it  not?  " 

"  You  are  enough  to  drive  a  man  wild  with  your 
questions,"  he  said. 

"  Cousin,  where  is  Aveline,  and  why  did  you  return 
last  night  with  a  rope  tied  to  your  horse's  saddle  —  a 
rope  blood-stained  and  frayed?  Aye,  and  why  did  you 
tell  me  you  had  done  for  her,  and  she  was  dead?  Did 
you  allude  to  her  —  to  Aveline?  " 

"  I  was  drunk,"  he  said,  and  broke  away  from  her 
with  a  groan.  He  went  crashing  through  the  bushes  in 
wild  haste,  anywhere,  away  from  the  blood-stained  rock 
and  Probity's  accusing  voice. 

And  before  he  had  gone  out  of  hearing  the  storm 
broke,  a  summer  shower,  heavy  and  wild.  It  beat  down 
on  Probity's  unprotected  head,  and  on  the  rock  shelf 
where  the  blood  —  poor  Kip's  blood,  shed  for  his  master 
—  lay  hardening  in  the  hot  air.  When  the  storm  had 
passed,  the  rock  was  clean  again,  and  if,  as  might  well 
be  the  case,  the  hungry  wolf  that  had  torn  the  heart  of 
the  faithful  dog  —  that  loving  heart  which  had  bidden 
him  obey  the  girl  his  master  had  commanded  him  to 
serve  —  if  that  wolf  returned  later  to  lick  up  the  last 
remnants  of  the  feast,  he  found  only  the  hard,  dry  stone. 

The  log,  which  in  falling  over  the  edge  of  the  rock 
had  hurled  the  dog  from  the  path,  and  with  one  blow 
battered  out  his  life,  lay  far  below  in  a  hollow  of  the 
ravine,  covered  by  bushes,  and  unnoticed.  Probity 
knew  nothing  of  it.  She  stood  in  the  rain,  the  heavy 
drops  coming  down  upon  her  —  stood  with  bowed  head. 

"  Forgive  !      Forgive  him  —  and  me." 

Her  lips  were  moving,  but  the  words  were  only  a  mur- 
mur.    Between  Probity's  soul  and  peace  was  the  memory 


FREE   TO    SERVE  371 

of  that  hidden  rope.  Yes,  and  of  the  blood-stained 
rock.  The  witness  of  both  was  confirmed  by  her 
cousin's  behaviour.  Probity  had  httle  doubt  that  Ave- 
Hne  was  dead  —  slain  by  Geysbert's  hand.  And  yet, 
at. that  moment,  her  thought  was  not  with  the  victim, 
but  with  the  slayer.  She  recognized  the  fact  with 
shame  and  fear. 

The  storm  had  passed,  and  the  sun  shone  out.  Prob- 
ity lifted  her  head.  The  water  ran  in  streams  from  the 
rocks.  They  were  slippery  beneath  her  feet,  but  she 
slowly  climbed  again  to  the  spot  from  which  Geysbert 
had  hurried  her.  She  drew  a  long  breath  as  she  reached 
it.  It  was  clean.  But  her  soul  and  Geysbert's  were 
stained. 


372  FREE   TO   SERVE 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

HAS  the  world  gone  sheer  crazy?  "  cried  Ryseck 
Schredel.  "  Mistress  Probity,  where  have  you 
been,  and  in  such  a  storm  too?  Drenched  to 
the  skin  you  are,  I'll  answer  for  it. 

"  I  have  shaken  my  clothes,  and  they  have  dried 
somewhat.  I  think  they  will  now  leave  no  marks, 
Ryseck,"  said  Probity  quietly.  "  Yes,  truly  I  was  wet, 
for  the  storm  was  heavy." 

She  passed  Ryseck,  and  went  upstairs.  Then  method- 
ically she  removed  each  article  of  wet  clothing.  She 
was  not  thinking  of  the  clothes.  She  was  filled  with  the 
consciousness  that  the  knowledge  of  her  cousin's  crime 
rested  between  himself  and  her.  The  very  rain  of 
heaven  had  come  to  the  rescue,  and  washed  away  the 
evidence  of  the  deed.  It  was  but  necessar}'  to  keep 
silence,  and  Geysbert  would  be  safe. 

"  It  rests  between  him  and  me,"  she  said  slowly, 
"  aye,  and  it  rests  on  him  and  me,  and  there  it  will  rest 
for  all  eternity,  unless  it  be  confessed,  and  the  just  pun- 
ishment borne." 

She  made  no  attempt  to  put  the  conviction  from  her. 
She  had  too  long  accustomed  herself  to  face  her  own 
heart  to  turn  coward  now. 

"  I  have  sorely  sinned,  yes,  and  am  still  sinning,"  she 
admitted,  "for  not  yet  can  I  crush  this  unholy  affection, 
and  obey  the  voice  of  my  conscience.  If  he  were  of  us, 
of  the  household  of  the  just,  and  had  thus  failed,  he 
would  know  that  no  scourging  could  be  too  grievous  if 
it  might  bring  him  back  to  the  path  of  right.  Better 
die  as  a —  murderer,"  she  forced  her  tongue  to  say  the 
word  aloud,  "  than   destroy  the  soul  by  a  hidden  crime. 


FREE   TO   SERVE 


373 


But  he  is  not  of  us,"  she  continued.  "  His  hope  is 
in  this  world,  and  if  it  be  taken  from  him,  —  and  by  my 
hand,  —  what  has  he  left?  " 

All  day  she  went  about  the  house,  keeping  her  hands 
employed,  while  her  ears  listened  for  Geysbert's  step. 
And  through  the  hours  the  strong  protest  of  her  con- 
science went  on.  Love  and  duty  were  struggling 
together,  and  every  moment  love  grew  despairingly 
stronger.  It  refused  to  yield,  even  to  the  mandate  of 
a  trained  and  hitherto  all-conquering  conscience. 

To  Probity  the  thought  of  covering  a  sin,  of  deliber- 
ately defrauding  justice,  and  allowing  the  sinner  to  live 
as  though  he  had  not  sinned,  was  a  grievous  offence. 
Geysbert  had  fallen,  and  justice  required  that  he  should 
suffer  the  legal  penalty  of  his  crime.  And  right  re- 
quired of  her  that  she  should  not  shield  him,  nay, 
under  the  circumstances,  that  she  should  denounce  him. 
Had  there  been  another  who  was  in  a  position  to  do  it, 
it  might  have  been  that  the  terrible  necessity  would  not 
have  rested  upon  her.  But  now,  in  the  face  of  her  own 
act,  which  had  made  it  impossible  that  any  other  should 
accuse  him,  it  was  her  duty  to  do  so.  She  had  arrived 
at  the  point  where  she  acknowledged  the  duty. 

"  It  ought  to  be  done.  It  is  required  of  me,  Probity 
Thaxter,  to  do  it,"  she  said.  "  But  I  am  not  prepared  to 
obey.  I  am  saying  no  to  my  God  and  to  my  con- 
science, and  —  I  can  say  no  other." 

Her  head  drooped  in  shame  and  sorrow.  Her  love 
was  too  strong  for  her  convictions. 

It  was  very  late  that  night  when  Geysbert  returned. 
The  house  was  still.  He  thought  that  all  were  sleeping, 
but  Probity  was  not  asleep.  She  came  out  of  the  large 
room  which  always  seemed  to  him  full  of  his  mother's 
presence.  To-night  the  thought  of  his  mother  was  but 
an  added  torment. 


374  FREE   TO    SERVE 

"  Dear  Geysbert,  you  are  late,  and  you  must  be  faint 
—  and  suffering." 

She  came  up  to  him,  and  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm. 
The  light  of  the  candle  she  carried  showed  the  sym- 
pathy in  her  face. 

"  You  know  nothing  of  suffering.  You  are  a  saint," 
he  said. 

He  pushed  past  her  up  the  stairs,  and  she  heard  him 
fasten  the  door  of  his  room.  There  were  tears  in  her 
eyes  as  she  followed  slowly.  Her  words  had  brought 
him  no  comfort.  She  ought  not  to  have  expected  it. 
She  entered  her  room,  and  knelt.  She  was  trying  to 
pray  —  for  herself  and  him,  but  she  could  not.  Between 
her  and  comfort,  as  between  her  and  hope  of  succour, 
was  a  sin,  hers  and  his.  She  might  not  comfort  him. 
She  had  no  right.  She  was  partaker  of  his  sin.  And 
she  could  not  pray  for  him,  for,  to  her,  prayer  seemed 
a  mockery.  What  answer  could  she  expect?  Surely 
not  one  of  peace.  That  would  be  to  lower  the  throne 
of  justice,  to  make  the  eternal  decrees  as  weak  as  human 
hearts.  To  Probity,  right,  and  justice,  and  eternal 
good,  and  peace,  and  succour,  were  on  one  side,  and 
on  the  other,  herself  and  Geysbert.  Between  lay  the 
martyrdom  embodied  in  that  act  which  she  felt  was 
required  of  her,  the  giving  up  of  Geysbert  into  the 
hands  of  the  law,  and  the  witnessing  of  his  death  as  a 
murderer. 

It  was  no  wonder  she  did  not  sleep.  Sleep  was  as 
far  from  her  eyes,  and  rest  from  her  soul,  as  they  were 
from  the  eyes  and  the  soul  of  her  cousin.  His  brain 
had  thrown  off  the  numbness  engendered  by  the  drink, 
and  set  itself  free  to  think.  He  had  no  clear  recollec- 
tion of  the  scenes  of  the  previous  night.  But  there  was 
a  confused  memory  of  harsh  words  and  a  cruel  purpose 
towards  the  girl  whom  now,  in  his  bitter  remorse,  he 
loved    more  passionately  than    ever.      Her  face,  as    he 


FREE    TO    SERVE  375 

saw  it  when  he  looked  back,  and  the  moonhght  fell 
upon  it,  was  before  him  still.  That,  and  the  cry  which 
had  awakened  him  from  his  drunken  barbarity,  were 
the  two  clear  points  in  the  midst  of  indistinct  memory. 
He  had  been  hurrying  away  from  these  two  all  day,  and 
had  never  outdistanced  them.  Now  they  waited  for 
him,  his  companions  for  the  night.  He  had  nothing  to 
do  but  hold  fellowship  with  them. 

He  could  not  get  up  a  counter  irritation  against  his 
brother.  That  feeling  had  died  out,  passed  out  of 
sight  in  the  overwhelming  horror  that  possessed  him. 
He  had  called  Helmer  a  murderer,  and  as  such  his 
anger  had  been  hot  against  him.  But  his  worst  con- 
ception of  his  brother's  deed  could  not  approach  in 
cruelty  that  of  which  he  was  guilty.  And  it  was  certain 
that  he  was  guilty.     There  was  a  doubt  about  Helmer. 

He  had  suddenly  grown  lenient.  The  term  murderer 
did  not  burst  forth  as  bitterly  from  his  lips.  He  knew 
how  it  felt  to  be  a  murderer.  And  it  never  occurred 
to  him  to  talk  of  the  injustice  of  the  murderer  going 
free.  He  realized  that  the  words  were  an  absurdity. 
He  could  not  go  free.     The  murder  had  hold  of  him. 

After  he  broke  away  from  Probity  that  morning, 
Geysbert  at  first  fled  recklessly,  not  caring  whither  he 
went.  But  presently  his  feet  began  to  pick  their  way. 
He  worked  upward  and  outward,  and  came  on  the  edge 
of  the  mountain.  Then  he  began  to  descend.  He  was 
making  for  the  Indian  tepees.  Not  with  the  view  of 
doing  injury  to  Helmer.  That  had  faded  from  his 
mind.  It  was  rather  an  indistinct  idea,  a  vague  notion 
of  expiation,  that  led  him  there.  Aveline  had  said 
something  about  her  presence  being  necessary  to  Hel- 
mer's  recovery.  If  that  were  so,  he  might  at  least 
carry  on  her  work,  save  the  life  she  had  risked  her  own 
to  succour.  It  was  not  love  for  his  brother  that  turned 
his   feet  towards  the  tepees,  but  a  remorseful  desire  to 


3/6  FREE    TO    SERVE 

prevent  Aveline's  work  from  bein>4  in  vain.  In  this 
attempt  also  there  was  an  utter  absence  of  comfort. 
The  Indian  tepees  were  deserted.  There  was  not  a 
sound  to  be  heard  in  the  camp. 

"  I  might  have  known  better.  The  boy  Tyte  was 
with  him.  Doubtless  he  has  removed  him  farther  into 
the  forest,  for  fear  of  me,"  he  said  bitterly.  "  His  life 
may  pay  for  the  move,  if  he  be  indeed  as  ill  as  she 
said." 

For  a  long  time  he  stood  by  the  camp,  then  he  went 
slowly  over  the  ground  he  had  traversed  in  the  moon- 
light. The  rain  had  obliterated  every  trace  of  a  strug- 
gle. Again  he  searched  the  ravine.  She  might  be  there 
yet,  though  the  blood  upon  the  rock  pointed  to  the  work 
of  some  wild  beast.  He  searched  diligently  for  trace 
of  her,  and  found  none.  It  was  not  until  after  dark- 
ness had  descended  that  he  left  the  ravine,  and,  hardly 
knowing  what  he  did,  turned  homeward.  Except  when 
Probity's  questions  had  startled  him  for  the  moment  into 
a  consciousness  of  danger,  he  had  no  thought  of  his 
own  position.  When  the  accusing  voice  ceased,  the 
consciousness  was  obliterated  by  the  more  pressing  hor- 
ror of  remorse.  His  thought  was  all  of  Aveline.  When, 
therefore,  as  he  opened  his  door  in  the  early  morning, 
he  saw  Probity  awaiting  him,  he  was  not  at  first  as 
profoundly  impressed  by  her  words  as  she  had  antici- 
pated. 

"  Cousin,"  she  said,  "  I  have  this  night  striven  against 
my  God.  Truly  for  man  thus  to  strive  is  vain.  I  am 
vanquished.  Yet  am  I  still  a  rebel.  I  yield,  not  to  the 
force  of  truth,  but  to  the  pressure  of  alarm  lest  my  con- 
tumacy should  cost  my  cousin  his  soul.  A  rebel  still,  I 
obey  the  right." 

Her  voice  was  low.  It  thrilled  with  emotion.  Its 
tone  arrested  Geysbert's  wandering  attention. 

"What  do  you  mean?"   he  said.        "You    had  better 


FREE    TO    SERVE  377 

leave  me  and  my  sins  alone.     They  are  too  black  for 

you  " 

"  Geysbert,"  she  said,  and  her  face,  as  she  drew  nearer 
to  him,  was  so  white  that  it  forced  him  to  put  aside  for 
the  moment  his  own  dark  thoughts,  "  it  is  more  than 
plucking  out  the  right  eye  that  is  required  of  me.  To 
deliver  up  myself  were  a  small  matter.  Against  the 
delivering  of  my  cousin  to  justice — and  death  —  I  have 
fought,  yes,  impiously  fought.  Now  I  go  to  accomplish 
it." 

He  looked  at  her  for  a  moment,  bewildered. 

"  You  will  betray  me?  "  he  said,  and  there  was  more 
surprise  than  fear  in  his  tone. 

"  Aye,  I  must." 

It  was  almost  a  wail. 

"  As  you  please,''  he  replied.  "  I  think  I  care  little. 
I  warn  you,  however,  that  I  shall  not  criminate  myself. 
I  have  not  your  scruples  to  contend  with." 

The  depth  of  sorrow  in  her  eyes  touched  him,  even 
then.     He  put  both  hands  on  her  shoulders. 

"  It  costs  almost  as  much  to  be  a  saint  as  to  be  a 
sinner,"  he  said.  "  Do  your  worst  —  or  your  best,  for 
so  I  suppose  it  seems  to  you.      I  will  face  it." 

To  her  surprise  his  lips  touched  her  forehead. 
Directly  after,  he  gently  put  her  aside,  and  went  down 
the  stairs. 

Probity  returned  to  her  room,  and  stood  by  the 
window.  The  morning  light  revealed  the  weariness  of 
her  face.  It  bore  the  marks  of  exhaustion,  as  of  one 
who  had  struggled  till  strength  failed.  The  girl's  hands 
hung  limp  and  nerveless.  She  had  wrought  herself  up 
to  the  point  of  supreme  effort.  To  announce  to  her 
cousin  her  intention  of  delivering  him  to  justice  had 
seemed  to  her  a  physical  impossibility.  Her  tongue 
absolutely  refused  the  office.  But  she  compelled  it  to 
the    task.       Now    the    words    were    spoken.     She    had 


378  FREE   TO    SERVE 

entered  upon  the  course  to  which  conscience  called  her. 
Yet  she  was  not  at  peace.  She  was  an  unwilling  ser- 
vant. She  had  yielded  to  conscience  the  obedience  of 
a  slave,  driven  by  the  lash  of  fear.  Not  that  the  worst 
fear  was  for  herself.  It  was  not  to  ease  her  conscience 
that  she  had  surrendered.  The  condemnation  yet 
rested  on  her  spirit.  It  had  been  in  no  wise  removed. 
She  and  right  were  yet  opposed.  She  wished  to  rebel, 
though  she  obeyed.  But  persistency  in  hiding  her 
cousin's  sin  meant  to  her  the  loss  of  his  soul,  and  in 
that  loss  she  would  have  a  hand.  If  she  did  not  speak, 
justice  could  not  overtake  him.  On  his  soul  would  rest 
an  unacknowledged  sin  that  would  sink  him  to  hell. 
The  sin  must  be  confessed,  and  her  tongue  must  con- 
fess it,  since  his  would  not. 

The  signs  of  her  struggle  were  so  apparent,  that 
when,  in  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  the  second  step 
of  that  forced  duty  was  taken,  and  Probity  entered  a 
house  in  the  small  town  of  Kingston,  the  grave  face  of 
the  elderly  Dutch  gentleman  before  whom  she  pre- 
sented herself  softened  at  sight  of  her.  There  was  such 
a  depth  of  sorrow  in  her  eyes  that  the  voice  which  had 
often  struck  terror  to  the  hearts  of  evil-doers  was  very 
gentle  as  he  asked : 

"  What  is  your  pleasure,  my  child?  Can  I  do  aught 
to  serve  you  ?  " 

"  Sir,"  said  Probity,  "  I  understand  that  you  are  one 
of  those  appointed  in  this  province  to  judge  your  fellow- 
men." 

There  was  the  faintest  approach  to  a  smile  on  his 
lips  as  he  bowed  in  response. 

"  I  have  much  to  say  to  you,"  she  continued.  "  I 
pray  you   to  hear  me  patiently." 

"  Then  if  you  have  much  to  say,  sit  you  down,"  he 
replied  kindly. 

Philip  Vanderbeeck  was  a  man  who  could  be  stern  on 


FREE   TO   SERVE  379 

occasion,  but  there  was  no  trace  of  sternness  in  his 
manner  as  he  added : 

"  Now,  if  you  are  ready,  I  will  listen." 

"  My  name  is  Probity  Thaxter,"  she  said,  "  and  I 
belong  not  to  the  province  of  New  York,  but  to  the 
New  England  colonies.  I  have  for  many  months  dwelt 
at  the  Feljer  manor  house,  where  I  came  to  visit  my 
aunt,  Madam  Feljer,  who  now  is  no  more." 

The  face  of  her  listener  changed.  He  leant  forward, 
and  his  manner  grew  still  more  attentive. 

"  My  aunt  had  in  her  service  a  young  girl,  a  bond- 
servant," continued  Probity.  "  She  was  to  her  almost 
as  a  daughter,  and  was  allowed  much  liberty." 

She  looked  at  him  inquiringly.  She  wanted  to  be 
sure  that  he  was  following  her. 

"  I  understand.  And  your  trouble  is  connected  with 
her?" 

"  With  her  and  my  cousin  Geysbert,  my  aunt's  eldest 
son." 

Probity's  voice  faltered.  She  stopped  a  moment, 
and  then  went  on  steadily. 

"  After  my  aunt's  death  this  maid  left  the  manor 
house  —  without  permission.  She  claimed  to  have  a 
duty  to  perform  for  my  aunt,  and  I  think  it  prob- 
able that  she  spoke  the  truth.  My  aunt  trusted  her 
much." 

"  Was  she  worthy  of  trust?  " 

The  interruption  was  made  more  for  the  sake  of 
giving  the  speaker  time,  than  from  a  desire  for  further 
information.  Probity  had  spoken  quietly  —  too  quietly. 
Her  calmness  was  so  manifestly  the  result  of  strong 
self-repression,  that  it  awakened  Philip  Vanderbeeck's 
sympathy. 

"  I  think  she  was.  Yet,  in  my  opinion,  she  was  mis- 
guided. My  cousin  Geysbert  was  angry  at  her  disap- 
pearance.     He   had    reason   to   suppose    that  she    had 


38o  FREE   TO    SERVE 

gone  to  New  York,  and  he  was  about  to  seek  her  there. 
He  is  passionate,  and  he  was  unduly  angry." 

Again  Probity  paused.  The  pallor  of  her  face  in- 
creased. 

"  The  story  is  hard  for  you  to  tell.  Rest  awhile,  or 
perhaps  I  can  supply  some  of  it  myself,"  said  her  lis- 
tener considerately.  "  Does  not  your  trouble  lie  in  the 
thought  that  this  girl  has  been  too  harshly  treated  by 
your  cousin?  He  has  perhaps  unduly  and  unlawfully 
punished  her,  and  your  sympathies  are  aroused." 

"  My  poor  cousin  !  Nay,  I  fear  that  my  sympathies 
are  yet  with  him,  in  spite  of  his  sin.  But  I  may  not 
hide  the  crime.  I  dare  not  run  the  risk  of  allowing  her 
death,  unconfessed,  to  lie  upon  his  soul." 

"  Her  death  !  " 

Probity  rose  suddenly,  and  stood  before  him. 

"  Sir,  I  fear  it  is  so,"  she  said,  "  I  would  I  could 
think  otherwise." 

"  This  is  a  serious  charge  to  bring  against  the  son  of 
Wyntie  Feljer.  And  it  is  strange  that  one  of  his  own 
family  should  prefer  it." 

Philip  Vanderbeeck  spoke  sternly. 

"  The  choice  lay  not  with  me,"  said  the  girl,  in  a  low, 
deep  voice.  "  There  was  none  other  who  knew.  As 
one  who  had  tried  to  destroy  the  evidence  of  his  guilt, 
I  was  constrained  to  speak.  I  had  put  it  out  of  the 
power  of  any  other  to  bring  righteous  punishment  upon 
him.  In  my  desire  to  shield  him  I  had  forgotten  the 
soul  that  could  be  destroyed  by  my  weakness.  There 
was  but  one  thing  to  be  done.  I  was  clearly  called 
upon  to  make  his  guilt  known.  Yet  for  a  day  and  a 
night  I  strove  against  the  duty." 

She  lifted  her  eyes  to  her  listener's  face,  and  for  a 
minute  stood  quite  still  before  him.  In  that  minute  he 
realized  something  of  the  conflict  through  which  she  had 
passed.     It  was  impossible  to  look  into  her  face  without 


FREE   TO    SERVE  381 

realizing  it.  And  while  he  looked,  he  ceased  to  wonder. 
It  would  have  been  strange  that  such  information  should 
be  given  by  one  so  near,  and  evidently  so  much  in 
sympathy  with  the  accused,  had  not  that  one  been 
Probity  Thaxter;  but  it  would  have  been  stranger  still 
if  this  girl  who  stood  before  him  had  refrained  from 
speaking. 

"  I  understand.  You  act  from  a  sense  of  duty,"  he 
said. 

"Of  necessity,  sir,  imperative  necessity,  lest  his  soul 
should  be  the  price  of  my  silence." 

"  You  spoke  of  destroying  the  evidence  of  the  crime. 
What  was  that  evidence?  "  asked  Philip  Vanderbeeck. 

Then,  in  a  clear,  low  voice  that  thrilled  her  hearer, 
Probity  told  the  story  of  the  night  which  had  seemed 
to  bring  life — as  she  knev/  it  before  —  to  an  end,  and 
of  the  day  which  followed.  Her  account  was  singu- 
larly free  from  those  comments  to  which,  in  his  position 
of  Justice,  Philip  Vanderbeeck  was  accustomed  to  listen. 
This  girl  went  straight  to  the  point,  and  stayed  there. 
In  a  wonderfully  short  time  he  was  in  possession  of  the 
facts,  and  had  learned  the  significance  of  the  frayed  rope 
and  the  blood-stained  rock. 

In  his  capacity  as  Judge,  Philip  Vanderbeeck  had 
never  listened  to  a  story  that  touched  him  so  deeply. 
The  strong,  but  admirably  controlled  emotion  of  the 
speaker  gave  life  and  reality  to  her  words.  He  was 
strangely  sympathetic  towards  this  girl.  And  yet  it 
was  not  altogether  strange.  He  remembered  the  time 
when  a  little  energetic  Dutch  maiden  held  his  heart  in 
her  keeping.  Ah,  that  was  long  ago,  and  she  became 
Wyntie  Feljer  instead  of  Wyntie  Vanderbeeck,  but  all 
through  this  sorrowful  story  he  saw  the  face  of  the 
young  Dutch  maid,  and  the  thought  that  the  life  of 
Wyntie  Feljer's  son  was  at  stake  made  him  quick  to  see 
the  weak  points  in  the  accusation.      Instinctively,  when 


382  FREE   TO    SERVE 

Probity  ceased  speaking,  he  began  to  question  her.  His 
voice  assumed  a  judicial  tone. 

"  Had  you  any  reason  to  suppose  that  this  girl  was  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  manor  house?"  he  asked. 

"None  whatever." 

"  On  the  contrary,  it  seemed  to  you  more  reasonable 
that  she  should  be  in  New  York?" 

"Very  much  more.  I  cannot  account  for  her  leav- 
ing the  manor  house,  except  to  go  to  New  York," 
said  Probity. 

"  Was  it  likely  that  she  would  go  to  the  city  and 
return  at  once?  " 

"  No,  sir.     Very  unlikely." 

"Then  your  sole  reason  for  supposing  that  harm  has 
come  to  her  lies  in  the  words  your  cousin  addressed  to 
you  ? 

"Yes.     I  had  no  other  means  of  judging." 

"Do  you  think  that  at  that  time  your  cousin  was  in  a 
condition  to  be  held  responsible  for  his  words?" 

Probity  looked  at  him  inquiringly. 

"  Sir,"  she  said,  "  he  was  intoxicated." 

"Will  you  tell  me  just  how  much  you  mean  by  that 
term?"  he  asked. 

"  Sir,"  she  said,  "  is  there  any  better  limit  of  the  word 
than  that  given  in  our  old  Plymouth  colony  law?  *  By 
drunkenness  is  understood  a  person  that  either  lisps  or 
falters  in  his  speech  by  reason  of  much  drink,  or  that 
staggers  in  his  going,  or  that  cannot  follow  his  calling.' 
Truly  my  cousin  faltered  in  his  speech  by  reason  of 
much  drink,  and  he  did  not  merely  stagger,  but  fall 
in  a  heap  by  the  side  of  his  horse,  and  he  was  unable 
even  to  rid  the  beast  of  its  harness." 

In  spite  of  the  gravity  of  the  occasion,  a  smile  hov- 
ered about  the  lips  of  the  Justice. 

"  The  words  of  a  drunken  man  are  often  foolish,  and 
sometimes   meaningless,"  he   said,  "  yet  taken  in  con- 


FREE   TO    SERVE  383 

junction  with  the  blood  and  the  torn  rope,  they  are  sus- 
picious. Of  themselves,  however,  I  doubt  whether  they 
present  much  evidence." 

Probity's  startled  eyes  were  fixed  on  his  face.  For 
the  first  time  in  the  interview  her  calmness  seemed  to 
be  failing  her. 

"  Sir,  oh,  sir,"  she  said,  "  give  me  no  false  hope.  You 
know  not  how  my  heart  clutches  at  it." 

"  You  would  rather  keep  in  the  dead  calm  of  despair, 
where  hope  and  fear  do  not  contend?"  he  said  kindly. 
"  Poor  child  !  Your  devotion  to  duty  is  costing  you 
much  suff"ering.  Yet  I  think  that  in  this  case  you  have 
rather  unwarrantably  jumped  to  conclusions.  There 
are  many  suspicious  circumstances,  but,  in  my  estima- 
tion, little  real  evidence  that  your  cousin  has  committed 
a  crime.  There,  there,  child,"  he  added  hastily,  as  he 
took  her  hand  in  his,  and  gently  forced  her  into  a  chair, 
"  sit  down  and  take  comfort.  You  have  put  too  great  a 
strain  upon  yourself." 

The  hand  he  held  was  limp  and  cold.  For  the  time, 
the  calm,  self-reliant  Probity  had  vanished.  It  was  a 
pitiful,  suffering  face  that  lifted  itself  to  his. 

"  Sir,"  she  said,  "  it  cannot  be  as  you  think,  or  why  is 
my  cousin  so  remorseful,  so  unlike  himself  ?  " 

He  shook  his  head.  "  That  I  cannot  tell  you,  yet  it 
may  well  be  that  he  is  not  so  great  a  culprit  as  you 
deem  him."  Then,  after  a  short  silence,  he  added,  "  If 
it  were  as  you  think,  this  would  be  a  case  for  the  Su- 
preme Court.  Am  I  mistaken  in  thinking  you  came 
to  me  that  the  responsibility  might  be  taken  off  your 
shoulders?  " 

"  I  thought  that,  as  a  Judge,  you  would  know  what  to 
do,"  she  said,     "  I  would  do  what  is  right,  for  his  sake." 

"  Will  you  leave  the  matter  in  my  hands?  "  he  asked. 
"  I  have  a  little  more  legal  knowledge  than  yourself,  I 
think." 


384  FREE   TO    SERVE 

He  was  smiling  again  now. 

"  Sir,  I  should  be  very  thankful  to  do  so." 

"  Then  I  will  come  to-morrow  and  see  the  place  of 
which  you  speak  —  this  ravine.  And  I  will  speak  with 
your  cousin.  He  knows  nothing,  I  suppose,  of  your 
coming?  " 

"  I  am  not  sure.  He  was  away  when  I  started.  But 
he  will  not  be  surprised.  I  told  him  in  what  direction 
my  duty  lay." 

"  You  told  him  that  you  were  about  to  inform  against 
him?  " 

"  Surely,  sir.      It  was  but  just  so  to  do." 

He  looked  at  her  curiously. 

"And  he?     What  did  he  say?  " 

•'  He  told  me  to  do  as  I  saw  best.  Sir,  he  was  very 
good  to  me." 

Her  voice  broke,  and  her  eyes  grew  dim. 

"  And  he  was  not  alarmed?  " 

'•  He  did  not  seem  to  be  so.  He  said  he  should 
defend  himself." 

"  That  is  strong  presumptive  evidence  that  he  is  not 
guilty,"  said  Philip  Vanderbeeck  cheerfully.  "  Well, 
my  dear,  there  is  no  more  to  be  done  to-day.  To- 
morrow I  will  see  you  at  the  manor  house." 

"  You  are  very  kind  to  me,"  said  Probity  simply. 
"  I  thank  you." 

She  left  the  house,  comforted,  and  hastened  to  the 
river,  where  her  attendants  awaited  her  with  the  boat. 
It  was  late  when  she  reached  the  landing,  and  she  was 
surprised  to  see  Geysbert  looking  for  her.  He  held  out 
his  hand  to  assist  her. 

"  I  had  grown  anxious  about  you,"  he  said,  "  though, 
to  be  sure,  these  rascals  are  equal  to  bringing  you  back 
safely," 

He  gave  a  word  of  command  to  the  negroes,  and 
turned  up  the  path  with  her. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  385 

"  Cousin,  it  was  good  of  you  to  come  to  meet  me." 

There  were  tears  in  Probity's  voice.  Her  self-control 
was  giving  way.  The  long  strain  was  proving  too  much 
even  for  her  trained  will. 

"  We  may  as  well  be  good  to  each  other,"  he  said. 
"We  are  neither  of  us  any  too  happy." 

He  did  not  enter  the  house  with  her,  nor  ask  her  of 
her  doings,  and  she  saw  him  no  more  that  night.  She 
did  not  know  what  time  he  came  in,  for  she  slept  the 
sleep  of  sheer  exhaustion.  Attempts  at  rigid  self- 
examination  were  useless  that  night.  Probity  had  lost 
the  power  of  judging,  not  others  only,  but  herself.  Brain 
and  body  and  heart  were  wearied  past  bearing.  They 
peremptorily  refused  to  be  driven  farther.  In  defiance 
of  her  protests,  the  sleep  of  exhaustion  seized  upon  her, 
and  questionings  of  her  own  conduct  and  of  her  cousin's 
ceased.  When  she  awoke  she  put  the  questions  from 
her.  She  had  to  take  up  the  dropped  duties  of  the 
household,  and  she  felt  that  there  was  but  strength  left 
for  the  one  set  of  responsibilities.  Ryseck  exclaimed 
at  sight  of  her  face. 

"  What  are  things  coming  to?  "  she  said.  "  Surely 
madam's  presence  was  never  so  much  needed  as  now. 
There,  there,  child,  get  you  to  your  breakfast.  When 
you're  as  old  as  1  am,  you'll  have  learned  that  the  man 
that's  worth  a  good  woman's  breaking  her  heart  over, 
must  be  a  very  extraordinary  one  mdeed." 

Ryseck  had  her  own  opinion  about  the  cause  of  the 
present  peculiar  condition  of  affairs  at  the  manor  house. 
The  evident  excitement  was  explainable  on  her  hypoth- 
esis, and  she  sympathized  with  Probity. 

"  Breaking  her  heart  over  a  lad  that  has  never  an  eye 
for  her !  "  she  said  impatiently. 

In  the  afternoon  of  that  day  Probity  was  summoned 
to  meet  Philip  Vanderbeeck.  He  greeted  her  with  a 
smile. 


386  FREE   TO   SERVE 

"  I  have  seen  your  cousin,"  he  said,  "  and  visited  the 
place  of  which  you  told  me.  I  think  you  need  trouble 
yourself  no  farther  on  the  point  of  being  called  upon  to 
institute  proceedings  against  him.  There  is  but  a  very 
slight  foundation  for  your  suspicions,  and  though  I  can- 
not altogether  set  your  mind  at  rest,  I  believe  this  to  be 
a  case  where  it  would  be  wisest  to  exercise  that  charity 
which  thinketh  no  evil.  Your  cousin  admits  there  are 
circumstances  connected  with  that  night  which  he  does 
not  wish  to  explain,  or  feel  called  upon  to  explain, 
unless  the  law  should  force  him,  in  which  case  he  thinks 
he  can  dispose  of  the  matter  satisfactorily.  He  is  at  a 
loss  to  understand  where  you  obtained  your  impression, 
unless  it  be,  as  you  say,  from  words  spoken  by  himself 
when  in  a  state  of  disgraceful  drunkenness.  He  has  no 
memory  of  them,  and  but  an  indistinct  recollection  of 
anything  which  happened  that  night.  As  for  the  rope, 
he  justly  says  that  its  presence  in  the  hands  of  one  who 
is  by  instinct  a  hunter,  is  not  to  be  harshly  construed. 
Such  a  rope  might  easily  be  stained  with  blood,  without 
it  being  necessary  to  suppose  that  human  blood  had 
been  shed.  On  the  whole,  my  dear,  I  think  he  has  the 
best  of  the  argument,"  said  the  kind-hearted  Judge, 
"  and  I  would  advise  you  to  dismiss  the  subject  from 
your  mind.  It  seems  to  me  that  the  worst  you  could 
do  would  but  lead  to  a  harassing  trial,  at  which  there 
would  be  insufficient  evidence  to  convict.  The  girl 
may  be  beyond  the  province  before  now.  It  is  almost 
impossible  to  find  out  whether  she  be  dead  or  alive. 
Better  let  the  matter  rest." 

She  looked  at  him  long  and  searchingly.  Because 
she  wanted  to  believe,   she  held  back. 

"  I  know  not  how  to  thank  you,  sir,"  she  said,  "  I 
am  in  perplexity  about  the  matter.  Yet  surely  you 
should  know  better  than  myself." 

"  I  have  had  more  experience,"  he  said. 


FREE   TO   SERVE  387 

"  Yes.  I  ought,  perhaps,  to  trust  to  it.  My  aunt 
averred  that  I  trusted  too  much  to  my  own  judgment. 
It  is  possibly  true." 

"  That  may  well  be,  my  dear,"  he  said,  and  there  was 
a  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"  I  will  seek  guidance  on  the  subject,"  continued 
Probity,  "  But  in  the  meantime  my  heart  is  full  of 
thankfulness  to  you  for  your  sympathy  and  your  help. 
I  would  fain  express  my  gratitude,  but  I  seem  to  have 
no  words  in  which  to  speak." 

'*  It  is  unnecessary,  my  child,"  he  replied.  "  Wyntie 
Feljer's  niece  should  command  my  services,  even  if  in 
yourself  I  had  found  nothing  to  awaken  my  sympathy." 

He  would  not  stay,  though  she  pressed  him.  He 
took  both  her  hands  in  his. 

"  Patience  is  a  virtue  that  should  be  cultivated  at  the 
present  time,  I  think,"  he  said.  "  Patience  in  judg- 
ment and  in  action.  Good-by.  Don't  quarrel  with  your 
cousin," 


388  FREE   TO    SERVE 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

THE  almost  human  cry  which  burst  from  poor  Kin 
at  the  moment  when  the  falling  log  swept  him 
over  into  the  ravine,  that  cry  which  had  haunted 
Geysbert  ever  since,  had  been  carried  by  the  wind  away 
from  Aveline.  It  reached  her,  however,  in  a  subdued 
form,  bringing  with  it  a  renewed  sense  of  danger.  When 
she  dropped  behind  the  bushes  she  at  first  lay  exhausted, 
listening  to  the  hoof-beats  of  Geysbert's  horse.  Now 
she  roused  herself,  and  rose,  staggering,  to  her  feet. 
Geysbert  might  find  out  the  substitution  and  return,  and 
yet — she  did  not  think  he  would.  The  rum  he  had 
taken  must  produce  effect  before  long,  and  when  it  did, 
it  would  insure  inaction  for  many  hours. 

She  became  suddenly  aware  of  the  blood  that  was 
trickling  from  her  wrist,  and  she  wrapped  her  handker- 
chief about  the  wound.  Strength  seemed  to  have  left 
her  limbs  ;  she  was  trembling  violently.  She  stood  still 
to  recover  breath  for  that  upward  climb  to  the  tepee. 
It  was  terribly  long  and  steep.  She  was  but  just  begin- 
ning to  realize  the  danger  through  which  she  had  passed, 
and  that  which  lay  ahead.  It  was  the  thought  of  the  dan- 
ger to  Helmer  which  overcame  the  weakness  of  her  shak- 
ing limbs.  She  drew  her  forces  together  and  began  the 
ascent.  He  must  not  know  of  what  had  happened,  at 
least  to-night.  To-morrow,  by  daybreak,  he  should  be 
removed  farther  into  the  forest,  where  Geysbert  could 
not  so  easily  find  him.  But  to-night  she  would  hide 
everything  from  him. 

She  passed  the  cut  and  jagged  rope  that  had  been 
wound  around  her  wrists,  and  then,  she  hardly  knew 
why,  turned  and  picked  it  up,  slipping  it  into  her  pocket. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  389 

The  intense  excitement  which  had  hitherto  carried  her 
through  was  passing  away,  and  exhaustion  gained  upon 
her.  Her  feet  dragged  heavily,  and  the  pain  of  the 
bruises  made  itself  felt.  She  began  to  realize  Geys- 
bert's  brutality,  and  the  authority  he  had  over  her.  In- 
dignation was,  however,  stronger  than  fear. 

"  Missy  !      Missy  Av'line  !  " 

Tyte's  voice  sounded  from  among  the  trees.  The  sigh 
of  relief  with  which  Aveline  turned  towards  the  boy 
showed  how  great  was  the  effort  she  was  making. 

"Tyte,"  she  said,  "come  here.  I  want  you  to  help  me 
up  the  hill." 

"  Missy  —  missy  isn't  hurt  ?  " 

Tyte  sprang  towards  her.  His  eyes  looked  up  at  her 
in  the  moonlight.  When  he  saw  the  whiteness  of  her 
face  he  said,  "  Mars'r  Geysbert  drunk,  or  he  never 
hurt  missy,  not  when  he  worst  angry." 

She  put  her  hand  on  his  shoulder,  and  leant  on 
him. 

"You  must  not  tell  Mr.  Helmer  — not  a  word,"  she 
said. 

"  No,  missy.      Dis  boy  know  better." 

They  reached  the  camp,  and  Aveline  looked  in  upon 
Helmer.  He  was  still  asleep,  and  she  went  to  her  own 
tepee.  She  must  throw  off  this  weakness,  or  Helmer 
would  discover  what  had  happened.  His  eyes  would 
be  even  sharper  than  Tyte's. 

It  was  not  easy  to  throw  it  off.  The  shock  had  been 
great.  She  felt  a  numbness  creeping  over  her,  and  tried 
to  rouse  herself.  The  next  moment  she  was  fully 
roused,  and  that  without  effort  of  her  own.  The  silence 
of  the  forest  was  again  invaded  ;  through  the  door  of 
the  tepee  had  come  the  sound  of  voices.  There  was  no 
room  for  doubt.  Some  one  was  near.  Was  Geysbert 
returning  with  another  —  possibly  Arent  Hooghland? 

She   forgot   her  hurts,  and  went  swiftly  outside.      It 


3-90  FREE   TO    SERVE 

could  not  be  Geysbert,  for  the  sounds  came  from  above. 
She  stood  upon  the  track  waiting.  The  voices  had 
ceased,  but  now  and  again  the  cracking  of  a  twig  told 
that  the  intruders  approached. 

Then  two  figures  emerged  from  the  shadow.  Ave- 
line's  heart  beat  heavily.  Who  were  they,  and  what  was 
their  errand?  They  came  nearer,  the  taller  in  advance 
of  his  companion.  The  moonlight  revealed  his  face  to 
her  as  she  stood  motionless. 

"  Fulke  !  "  she  cried,  and  tried  to  run  to  meet  him, 
but  the  treacherous  strength  suddenly  gave  way. 

"  Aveline  !     Why,  child,  what  are  you  doing  here?  " 

His  arm  was  about  her,  and  he  was  looking  into  her 
white  face.  Her  lips  moved,  but  no  sound  came. 
Then  he  saw  the  bandaged  wrist,  and  his  own  face 
paled.  He  gathered  her  up  in  his  arms  and  carried 
her  towards  the  tepees. 

"  Not  dere,"  suddenly  interposed  Tyte's  voice,  as 
Fulke  would  have  taken  her  into  the  one  where  Helmer 
slept.  "  Missy  be  sorry  if  Mars'r  Helmer  see  her  now. 
Missy  say  not  to  let  him  know." 

Tyte  guided  the  way  to  Aveline's  especial  part  of  the 
camp.  Fulke  carried  her  inside,  and  peremptorily 
ordered  the  boy  out.  Then,  his  professional  instincts 
asserting  themselves,  he  proceeded,  by  the  light  of  the 
lantern,  to  bind  up  the  wounded  wrist  more  effectually, 
and  to  examine  the  bruises  on  Aveline's  arm. 

"There's  something  wrong  here,"  he  said,  and  he 
set  his  lips  together  closely.  "  It  is  time  somebody 
looked  after  her,   poor  child." 

"  Oh,  Fulke,  I  am  so  glad  !  " 

Aveline  opened  her  eyes.  She  made  a  great  effort, 
but  the  words  were  only  a  whisper. 

"There,  lie  still.     Glad?     So  am  I." 

He  bent  over  her  to  alter  her  position.  She  gave  a 
sharp  cry  of  pain. 


FREE    TO    SERVE  391 

"What  is  it?  Where  are  you  hurt?"  he  asked 
anxiously. 

"  All  over,  I  think.  To  be  dragged  behind  a  horse  is 
calculated  to  inflict  some  injuries." 

She  spoke  indignantly,  if  feebly. 

"  You  were  riding,  and  were  thrown?" 

"No." 

Her  lips  quivered.  She  was  yet  too  much  unnerved 
to  give  him  a  clear  account  of  what  had  occurred. 

"There,  never  mind,"  he  said  gently.  "I  am  afraid 
you  are  injured  more  seriously  than  I  thought." 

"No,  I  am  only  bruised  and  scratched,"  she  said. 
"  It  came  near  being  worse.  It  would  have  been,  if  he 
had  carried  out  his  madness." 

"He?" 

"  Yes,     Geysbert  Feljer." 

Fulke's  brow  grew  dark,  but  he  restrained  himself. 
Aveline  was  in  no  fit  state  to  be  agitated  further.  The 
way  in  which  he  listened  to  the  story,  as  it  came  in  dis- 
connected sentences,  was  possibly  the  best  proof  he 
could  have  given  of  the  disciplinary  effect  of  his  pres- 
ent self-reliant  life. 

"We  shall  see,"  he  said,  and  his  tone  was  ominously 
calm.  "  I  think  I  may  promise  you  your  freedom 
now,  child.  Geysbert  Feljer  may  be  a  brute,  but  even 
brutes  believe  in  self-preservation,  and  self-preservation 
just  now  requires  the  going  through  a  httle  legal  process 
that  shall  alter  the  relations  between  a  certain  much- 
abused  girl  and   his  own  precious  self" 

Aveline  hesitated.  The  thought  of  discomfiting 
Gysbert  was  inviting,  but  she  remembered  Helmer. 
Any  triumph  for  her  would  be  paid  for  at  his  ex- 
pense. 

"Geysbert  deserves  it,"  she  said.  "And  truly  he 
has  put  himself  in  our  power.  His  act  must  surely 
have  been  a  breach  of  the  law,  though  he  claims  he 


392  FREE   TO    SERVE 

has  all  authority  over  me.  Yet  it  would  be  dangerous 
to  push  him  too  far.      Helmer's  life  is  at  stake." 

Aveline  had  not  seen  Fulke  since  Geysbert's  journey 
to  New  York,  and  she  had  much  to  explain.  Through 
the  early  summer  months  he  had  been  away  among 
distant  tribes  of  Indians,  seeking  to  prove  to  them  that 
it  was  more  to  their  interest  to  come  and  trade  at  Al- 
bany than  to  go  to  the  French  traders  of  Canada.  He 
had  had  some  success,  and  was  now  on  his  way  to  a 
village  of  the  Five  Nations,  there  to  look  after  certain 
recreant  hunters. 

"  I  came  far  out  of  my  course  to  pay  you  a  hurried 
visit,"  he  said.  "  I  had  had  no  news  of  you  for  long, 
and  was  anxious.  It  was  well  I  came.  The  manor 
house  is  no  fit  place  for  you  now." 

When  Helmer  awoke  it  was  to  see  Fulke  watching 
beside  him. 

"  You  have  changed  nurses,"  said  Fulke  quietly. 
"  My  sister  is  resting." 

He  found  Helmer  on  the  high  road  to  recovery. 

"  It  would  not  hurt  you  to  be  moved,"  he  said.  "  I 
think  I  shall  take  you  along  with  me.  Before  the  journey 
is  over  you  will  be  well,  that  is,  if  we  make  it  long 
enough." 

He  did  not  speak  of  Geysbert's  visit,  but  he  intimated 
that  he  had  heard  rumours  which  convinced  him  it  would 
be  wiser  to  make  a  move  in  the  early  morning. 

"You  will  not  lose  your  nurse,"  he  said.  "  I  am  go- 
ing to  keep  my  sister  with  me,  and  settle  the  matter  with 
Geysbert  later  on." 

After  that  explanation  Helmer  offered  no  objection  to 
the  plan. 

Fulke  had  not  abandoned  his  project  of  calling  Geys- 
bert to  acctfunt  for  his  dealings  with  Aveline ;  he  had 
only  postponed  it.  He  could  see  good  reasons  for  delay. 
He  had  had  a  long  talk  with  Aveline,  and  as  a  result,  the 


FREE   TO   SERVE  393 

early  morning  saw  the  camp  deserted.  With  the  help 
of  his  Indian  guide,  Fulke  constructed  a  litter,  and  the 
two  carried  Helmer  far  enough  that  day  to  remove  all 
danger  of  a  second  visit  from  Geysbert.  It  was  not  until 
many  days  later  that  Helmer  learned  why  the  hurried 
move  was  made.  When  he  saw  the  rope  —  stained  and 
cut  —  which  had  bound  Aveline's  wrists,  his  face  grew 
very  white. 

"  Will  it  ever  be  possible  to  make  up  to  you  for   the 
wrong  we  Feljers  have  done  you  ?  "  he  said. 


394  FREE   TO    SERVE 


CHAPTER    XXXVII 

COUSIN  GEYSBERT !  " 
A  week  had  passed  since  Justice  Vanderbeeck's 
visit.  There  were  dark  hnes  about  Probity's  eyes, 
and  a  sorrowful  droop  to  her  hps.  She  was  not  the  Pro- 
bity of  the  past,  even  of  the  more  recent  days  since 
madam's  death.  Peace  had  not  returned  to  her  heart. 
She  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that,  so  far  as  justice 
was  concerned,  her  duty  towards  her  cousin  was  ac- 
complished. But  the  consciousness  of  a  crime,  and  of 
her  own  part  in  concealing  it,  was  always  present. 

Geysbert  had  been  very  gentle  towards  her.  He  felt 
no  inclination  to  resent  her  action.  His  heart  was  in  too 
great  a  tumult  of  remorse  to  feel  the  full  force  of  that 
act.  He  met  her  the  same  night,  and  stopped  to  speak 
to  her. 

"Well,  is  it  even  between  us?"  he  said  kindly. 
"You  have  had  your  way,  and  your  conscience  should 
be  at  peace." 

"  Nay,  my  cousin,"  she  replied  sadly,  "  the  shame 
and  sorrow  of  a  sin  yet  rest  upon  it.  My  heart  clung 
to  the  evil,  and  in  its  fellowship  I  must  still  live.  It  may 
be  that  in  time  it  will  be  purged  away.  But  to  throw 
from  me  now  the  pain  of  that  sin,  to  trick  my  heart 
into  believing  that  it  has  accepted  the  higher  will 
because  that  will  at  the  present  demands  no  supreme 
sacrifice,  is  to  cheat  myself.  Nay,  I  look  not  for  peace, 
nor  do  I  deserve  it." 

He  shook  his  head, 

"  You  go  too  deep  for  me,"  he  said.  "  Enough  for 
me  if  I  escape  those  sins  the  sting  of  which  your  inno- 
cence knows  nothing  of.    But  you  are  not  going  to  shut 


FREE    TO    SERVE  395 

against  me  that  much-tried  heart  of  yours,  are  you  ?  I 
think  you  are  about  my  last  friend  now." 

"  Cousin,  if  I  had  loved  you  less,  I  should  have 
sinned  less,"   she  said. 

He  looked  into  her  face  as  she  lifted  it  towards  him. 
From  that  moment  he  never  again  told  himself  that 
Probity's  eyes  were  passionless. 

The  next  morning  Geysbert  appeared  at  the  usual 
hour  for  breakfast.  Since  that  night  ride  he  had  taken 
no  meals  with  his  cousin,  but  now  the  manor  house  fell 
into  its  old  ways,  or  new  ways,  for  it  was  very  silent  and 
sad  without  Aveline. 

Ryseck  alone  was  at  her  ease.  Philip  had  recovered, 
and  Ryseck  was  in  no  wise  uneasy  about  Aveline.  She 
noted  the  signs  of  suffering  in  Geysbert,  and  nodded 
her  head  complacently. 

"  Serves  him  right.  He's  getting  a  taste  of  his  pun- 
ishment, and  he  finds  it  bitter  in  his  mouth,"  she  said. 
"  He  may  take  away  his  brother's  possession,  aye,  and 
his  character,  but  he  cannot  take  that  lass  from  him. 
She's  too  much  for  Geysbert,  bless  her,  and  he  knows 
it,  and  the  knowledge  goes  hard  with  him." 

The  signs  of  suffering  were  very  apparent.  The 
week  that  had  passed  had  not  dimmed  the  memory  of 
that  sharp  cry,  nor  driven  from  Geysbert's  eyes  the 
picture  of  Aveline's  white  face.  They  went  with  him 
everywhere.  The  nights  were  worse  than  the  days,  for 
then  they  claimed  his  undivided  attention.  Possibly 
that  was  why  he  was  so  late  in  coming  in  to-night. 
Probity  had  long  been  waiting  for  him.  Now,  as  he 
entered,  she  met  him  in  the  hall. 

"  Cousin  Geysbert!  "  she  said. 

He  looked  up  wearily.  If  she  had  not  spoken  he 
would  have  passed  her. 

"  Will  it  be  a  sorrow  to  you  to  know  that  my  father 
requires  my  presence?"  she  asked. 


396  FREE   TO    SERVE 

There  was  the  slightest  quiver  in  her  voice.  It  might 
or  might  not  be  a  sorrow  to  Geysbert,  it  was  undoubt- 
edly a  deep  sorrow  to  Probity. 

"  You  are  going  from  us?  " 

Unconsciously  he  used  the  last  word.  It  was  hard  to 
remember  that  he  was  alone. 

"  It  is  my  father's  command." 

"  Ah !  You  had  a  letter  from  him  to-day.  I  had 
forgotten  the  fact." 

A  light  sigh  parted  Probity's  lips.  She  had  not  failed 
to  notice  that  what  was  of  so  much  interest  to  herself 
had  slipped  from  his  memory  almost  instantly. 

"  And  you  are  really  going?  " 

There  was  sorrow  in  his  tone  now  —  unmistakable 
sorrow. 

"  It  is  a  grief  to  me,"  she  said. 

"And  what  is  it  to  me?  You  are  the  last.  The 
manor  house  will  be  desolate  when  you  are  gone." 

"  Cousin,  I  would  thank  you  for  all  the  kindness  I 
have  received  at  this  house,"  she  said.  "  I  have  had 
much  happiness  here." 

"  Remember  the  happiness,  and  forget  the  sorrow, 
child,"  he  said. 

And  then  he  drew  her  to  him,  and  kissed  her. 

"  There,"  he  said  bitterly,  releasing  her  as  he  spoke, 
"  I  have  no  right  to  do  it.  Light  and  darkness  have  no 
fellowship." 

He  stood  still,  looking  at  her. 

"  When  will  you  go?  "  he  asked,  after  a  long  silence. 

"To-morrow.     There  will  be  an  opportunity." 

"  So  soon?  " 

"  It  will  be  better.  The  heart  will  not  protest  the  less 
for  waiting." 

She  smiled  sadly.     The  tears  were  very  near. 

"  The  desolation  will  be  complete  when  you  are 
gone,"  he  said. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  397 

He  stood  aside  to  let  her  pass,  and  watched  her  as 
she  went  upstairs.  And  she,  as  she  put  together  the 
simple  possessions  she  had  brought  to  the  manor  house, 
dropped  among  them  a  few  hot  tears. 

Strivewell  Thaxter's  words  had  been  peremptory. 

"  Your  place  is  at  home,  daughter,"  he  wrote.  "  Now 
that  Wyntie  Feljer  is  no  more,  you  have  naught  to  do  at 
the  manor  house.  Bid  your  cousin  Geysbert  farewell, 
and  remind  him  from  me  that  my  home  is  open  to  him, 
and  that  a  hearty  welcome  awaits  him  should  he  choose 
to  visit  it.  And  you  —  come  at  once.  Your  cousin  can- 
not take  it  ill  that  you  should  so  do.  He  is  free  to 
follow  you,  if  he  desire  thus  to  do.  I  shall  look  for 
you  speedily." 

Geysbert  read  the  words  for  himself  on  the  morrow, 
before  Probity  left  him. 

"  I  thank  him  for  the  invitation,"  he  said,  but  he  made 
no  promise  of  accepting  it. 

He  held  Probity's  hands  tightly  as  he  stood  with  her 
on  the  boat,  waiting  for  the  signal  to  speak  the  last 
words.     She  was  very  pale  and  still. 

"You  have  need  to  forgive  us  for  bringing  you  to 
the  manor  house,"  he  said.  "  This  face  is  not  the  face 
of  the  cousin  I  met  scarce  a  year  ago.  Our  sorrows 
have  pressed  heavily  upon  you." 

**  I  would  not  have  had  it  otherwise,"  she  replied. 
"  Truly  my  heart  is  sorrowful,  yet  would  I  not  go  back 
to  the  days  in  which  I  had  not  lived  at  the  manor  house, 
nor  known  —  my  cousins." 

He  looked  down  upon  her.  Blind  eyes  do  sometimes 
open.  Geysbert's  were  undergoing  a  change.  He  bent 
over  her  and  kissed  her. 

He  watched  until  the  boat  was  out  of  sight,  and  then 
returned  to  the  empty  manor  house.  It  was  more  deso- 
late than  ever  now  that  Probity  was  gone.  He  missed 
her  quiet  ministrations,  and  her  unfailing  sympathy.     He 


398  FREE    TO    SERVE 

seemed  more  alone  with  his  sin.  The  constant  presence 
of  that  sin  was  eating  away  the  covering  of  sophistry 
under  which  Geysbert  had  buried  mercy  and  brotherly 
kindness.  He  could  no  longer  stand  righteously  aloof 
and  mete  out  retribution  to  his  brother.  Helmer's  crime 
—  supposing  that  he  had  committed  it  —  was  as  nothing 
by  the  side  of  his  own.  And  when  he  had  ceased  to 
magnify  the  crime,  he  found  himself  growing  less  confi- 
dent about  its  committal.  His  mother  had  been  certain 
that  Helmer  was  innocent,  and  Aveline  had  never  doubted 
it.  Aveline's  opinion  had  become  a  weighty  argument 
on  the  side  of  acquittal.  He  did  not  believe  his  brother 
innocent,  but  he  allowed  the  entrance  of  a  doubt. 

His  remorse  for  his  cruelty  to  Aveline  was  all-absorb- 
ing. He  attended  to  the  affairs  of  the  estate  in  a  half- 
hearted fashion,  but  his  real  life  was  lived  in  the  memory 
of  that  night.  If  he  could  have  found  Helmer,  he  would 
at  this  time  have  befriended  him  —  for  her  sake.  There 
was,  however,  no  trace  of  his  brother.  Even  Kip  had 
disappeared,  gone  back,  in  all  probability,  to  his  master. 
There  was  nothing  to  which  he  could  show  kindness 
because  Aveline  had  cared  for  it,  nothing  he  could  do 
for  her.  It  would  have  been  a  relief  to  do  it,  had  there 
been  anything  to  be  done.  The  desire  at  last  grew 
strong  enough  to  find  for  itself  an  object. 

"  Ryseck,"  said  Geysbert  one  morning,  "  I  am  going 
to  New  York  to-morrow," 

"To  bring  back  Mistress  Aveline?  "  asked  Ryseck. 

"To  attend  to  my  own  business.  It  would  be  well  if 
others  would  do  the  same,"  he  replied  sharply. 

It  was  the  middle  of  the  summer,  and  there  was  on 
the  estate  much  that  required  his  attention,  yet  Geysbert 
was  going  to  New  York  —  on  a  mission  for  Aveline. 

"  I  put  it  out  of  her  power  to  do  it,"  he  said,  not  spar- 
ing himself.     "It  is  but  justice  that  I  should  do  it  for  her." 

He  was  going  to  the  city  to  find  out  more  about  the 


FREE   TO    SERVE  399 

negro  who  had  testified  against  Helmer.  It  would,  in  all 
probability,  be  of  no  avail,  but  he  owed  it  to  Aveline  to 
attempt  it.  To  Aveline,  and  to  his  mother.  Remorse 
was  taking  broader  ground.  His  heart  was  reproaching 
him  for  his  mother's  suffering. 

He  lost  no  time  in  seeking  the  owner  of  the  negro. 

"Cato?"  was  the  answer.  "You  come  too  late  to 
seek  audience  with  him.  The  wretch  is  to  be  hanged 
to-morrow." 

"  Why,  what  crime  has  he  committed?  " 

"  He  has  but  stabbed  another  negro  in  a  fit  of  passion. 
But  the  master  of  the  murdered  slave  was  angry,  and 
Cato  is  to  get  his  deserts,  more's  the  pity  for  me.  He 
was,  however,  a  dangerous  rascal  enough.  He  was 
capable  of  murdering  me  or  anybody  else  in  one  of  his 
rages,  aye,  even  though  he  should  die  for  it  the  next 
minute.  He  is  about  as  well  dead  as  alive,  though  it  is 
a  sad  loss  to  me." 

Geysbert  changed  colour.  He  felt  his  voice  trem- 
bling. 

"  Did  he  ever  have  cause  to  bear  a  grudge  against 
one  Myndert  Hooghland,  the  assistant  of  the  Custom 
Officer  here?" 

The  man  laughed. 

"  Aye,  that  had  he,  if  a  bleeding  back  was  reason 
enough.  Young  Myndert  caught  him  about  among 
some  goods  he  was  examining,  and  suspected  him  of 
theft.  He  gave  the  rascal  the  choice  of  a  flogging  or 
the  mercy  of  the  law.  He  chose  the  flogging  rather 
than  the  branding-iron,  and  he  got  a  fair  taste  of  it. 
Myndert  saw  to  that.  Aye,  he  had  cause  enough  for  a 
grudge." 

Geysbert  turned  away.  His  brain  reeled.  Helmer 
had  not  killed  Myndert.  He  had  been  persecuting  an 
innocent  man.  The  ground  was  swept  from  beneath 
his  feet.     If  Helmer  were  not  guilty,  his  own  action  was 


400  FREE  TO   SERVE 

unjustifiable.  Helmer's  guilt  was  the  sole  excuse  for 
all  that  had  followed.  And  he  had  misjudged  him. 
He  thought  he  had  reached  the  lowest  depth  of  misery 
before  he  came  to  New  York.  But  he  was  mistaken. 
It  was  possible  for  remorse  to  get  a  deeper  hold  of  him. 
Conscience  awoke  more  fully,  and  showed  him  himself. 
He  did  not  wonder  now  that  Aveline  had  scorned  him. 
He  scorned  himself. 

When  he  reached  the  prison,  and  confronted  the 
negro,  he  was  too  full  of  shame  to  be  hard  on  the  poor 
wretch.  Yet  his  face  was  stern  as  he  charged  him 
with  the  crime  of  the  murder  of  Myndert  Hooghland. 
Cato,  frightened  and  broken  down  at  the  prospect  of 
death  on  the  morrow,  was  not  hard  to  deal  with.  It 
did  not  take  long  to  induce  him  to  confess  his  guilt. 
In  the  presence  of  proper  witnesses,  and  in  due  legal 
form,  his  confession  was  recorded. 

"  You  will  at  least  die  more  easily  now  that  the  sin 
of  allowing  an  innocent  man  to  suffer  for  your  deed  no 
longer  rests  on  your  soul,"  said  Geysbert,  as  he  looked 
back  at  the  abject  creature. 

He  passed  out  into  the  sunlight. 

Helmer  was  cleared,  was  free  to  return  to  the  manor 
house.     Aye,  but  how  could  he  face  him  ? 


FREE   TO   SERVE  401 


CHAPTER    XXXVIII 

A  RENT  HOOGHLAND,  your  work  has  been 
taken  out  of  your  hands.  It  is  two  days  since  I 
saw  Myndert's  murderer  hanging  dead,  his 
crimes   legally   atoned   for." 

Geysbert  had  come  straight  from  his  boat  to  Hoogh- 
land's  house.  There  was  on  his  face  a  look  the  Dutch- 
man had  never  seen  there  before. 

"  He  is  dead?  Helmer  Feljer  has  dangled  by  the 
neck  in  the  sight  of  all  men?  Aye,  but  I  would  have 
given  much  to  have  witnessed  such  a  sight." 

The  bitter  hatred  that  betrayed  itself  in  every  tone 
was  more  effective  than  the  words.  It  caused  Geys- 
bert to  realize  the  company  he  had  joined  when  he 
ranged  himself  on  the  side  of  what  he  had  been  pleased 
to  term  justice. 

"  You  are  a  fool,"  he  said,  "  as  big  a  fool  as  I  have 
been,  and  there  is  no  bigger.  The  slave  Cato  murdered 
Myndert,  in  revenge  for  a  flogging  Myndert  was  the 
means  of  procuring  for  him." 

"It's  a  lie!  "  shouted  Arent.  "But  it  is  one  that 
shall  avail  you  nothing.  Helmer  Feljer  shall  die,  and 
that  as  a  murderer!  " 

"  You  rave,"  replied  Geysbert  coldly.  "  The  crime 
has  been  confessed,  and  a  proper  record  of  the  confes- 
sion made.  My  brother  is  as  free  to-day  as  he  was 
before  Myndert's  death.  The  copy  of  that  confession  is 
in  my  pocket.     You  can  see  it  if  you  choose." 

"  I  won't  look  at  it.     It's  a  He,  every  word  of  it." 

"  Just  as  you  please,"  replied  Geysbert.  "  I  have  no 
wish  that  you  should  read  it." 


402  FREE   TO    SERVE 

He  strode  away,  never  once  looking  back,  and  Arent 
Hooghland  stood  staring  after  him,  the  expression  of 
his  face  gradually  changing  from  savage  passion  to  al- 
most childish  disappointment. 

Geysbert  went  direct  to  the  manor  house,  striding 
along  beneath  the  July  sun,  his  pace  not  in  keeping 
with  the  heat  of  the  day. 

"  Ryseck  Schredel !  "  he  called,  in  a  voice  that  rang 
through  the  house. 

"  Bless  us  all,  what  is  the  matter  now?  "  said  Ryseck 
aloud.  "  That's  Mr.  Geysbert,  and  sure  enough  he 
sounds  like  no  lamb." 

She  came  into  the  hall. 

"Aye,  sir,  you  are  back?"  she  said. 

"  Ryseck  Schredel,  it  will  occasion  you  no  surprise 
for  me  to  tell  you  that  my  brother  is  innocent — has 
been  proved  to  be  so,"  said  Geysbert. 

"  No  surprise  that  you  should  tell  it?  "  replied  Ryseck. 
"  Nay,  but  where  would  you  find  a  greater?  The  testi- 
mony of  an  enemy  goes  farther  than  the  word  of  a 
friend  to  establish  the  character  of  the  upright.  If  jfou 
say  Helmer  is  innocent,  verily  it  is  so." 

Geysbert's  face  was  set.  He  gave  no  sign  that  the 
words  stung  him. 

"  So  she's  established  his  innocence,  has  she?  "  con- 
tinued Ryseck.  "  I  made  a  fairly  good  guess  what  the 
dear  maid's  errand  was  before  she  set  out,  but  she's 
surely  done  her  work  apace.  When  is  she  coming  back, 
or  have  you  changed  your  mind  on  that  point  also,  and 
given  the  poor  lass  her  freedom?  " 

"  If  you  are  speaking  of  Miss  Aveline,  I  did  not  meet 
her  in  New  York,"  said  Geysbert. 

His  hand  grasped  the  back  of  a  chair  nervously.  He 
was  putting  strong  constraint  upon  himself.  Ryseck's 
eyes  travelled  up  and  down  that  tall  figure.  This  was 
not  the  Geysbert  who  had  vowed  he  would  bring  Aveline 


FREE   TO    SERVE 


403 


back.     It  was  more  than  defeat  that  had  been  working 
here. 

"  Then  she  had  done  the  business  before  you  got 
there?"     Ryseck's  curiosity  was  eager. 

"  So  far  as  I  know  she  had  no  hand  in  it,"  replied 
Geysbert.  "  I  went  to  New  York  to  make  inquiries  in  a 
new  direction.  They  were  successful,  and  the  murderer 
was  discovered.     He  is  even  now  dead." 

"  And  she  had  naught  to  do  with  it?  " 

"  Nothing  whatever." 

"  Then  where  is  she?     That's  what  I  want  to  know." 

Ryseck's  sharp  eyes  were  being  kept  at  work.  She 
did  not  spare  them,  nor  Geysbert. 

"  That  I  cannot  tell  you,"  he  said,  and  turned  abruptly 
and  left  the  hall. 

"  And  Mr.  Helmer?     Is  he  to  have  his  own  now?  " 

The  words  went  out  into  the  hot  air.  Geysbert  had 
gone.  The  last  Ryseck  saw  of  him  he  was  hurrying 
down  the  hill,  something  in  his  gait  causing  even  Ry- 
seck a  touch  of  compunction. 

"  The  faster  a  man's  been  rushing  downward,  the 
heavier  he's  like  to  fall  when  he  comes  all  of  a  sudden 
to  the  bottom,"  she  said,  "  and  I  don't  know  that  he 
feels  his  bruises  the  less  for  the  pace  at  which  he's  been 
going.  Mr.  Geysbert's  got  a  fall,  and  a  hard  one,  and 
the  ache  of  it  is  yet  heavy  in  his  soul." 

The  ache  was  heavier  than  Ryseck  guessed.  It  had 
given  him  no  rest  since  he  learned  that  Helmer  was  in- 
nocent. Every  vestige  of  excuse  was  swept  away  from 
him.  Aveline  had  been  in  the  right,  nay,  had  been  per- 
forming a  duty  that  he  himself  should  have  done,  and 
he  had  cruelly  murdered  her  as  a  reward.  That  very 
first  letter,  that  he  had  kept  back  from  his  mother,  con- 
tained no  lie,  but  the  truth.  Every  subsequent  act 
stood  out  in  all  its  unwarrantable  cruelty  and  treachery. 
On    Helmer's    guilt   the   right    or  wrong  of  each   had 


404  FREE   TO    SERVE 

turned,  or  to  him  had  seemed  to  turn.  And  Helmer  was 
innocent.  Geysbert  stood  without  excuse  to  himself, 
and  there  is  no  more  trying  position.  He  had  robbed 
his  brother  of  his  home,  his  mother's  last  weeks,  almost 
of  her  love,  and  he  had  robbed  him  of  Aveline.  A  long 
list  of  sins,  truly,  and  the  next  step  in  the  programme 
was  the  meeting  with  Helmer,  Unless,  indeed,  he  had 
absolutely  filled  up  the  measure  of  his  iniquity,  and 
Helmer's  death  also  lay  at  his  door,  Aveline  had  said 
that  his  life  depended  on  care.  The  shock  of  losing 
her,  and  the  hurried  move,  were  not  likely  to  aid  in  the 
recovery  of  an  almost  dying  man. 

Ever  since  the  confession  of  the  negro  these  thoughts 
had  been  racing  after  one  another  through  Geysbert's 
brain.  Sleep  had  forsaken  him  as  absolutely  as  peace. 
Never  once  since  then  had  there  been  a  moment's  for- 
getfulness.     Now  Ryseck's  last  words  rang  in  his  ears, 

"  Is  Helmer  to  have  his  own  again?  "  Ah,  there  was 
another  stab,  Ryseck  little  knew  how  truly  the  manor 
house  was  Helmer's  own.  The  memory  of  a  legal  doc- 
ument, found  after  all  search  for  it  was  over,  was  an 
added  burden  on  Geysbert's  heart.  That  document  was 
unopened.  He  had  not  broken  the  seal.  He  had  but 
put  the  whole  back  into  the  place  where  he  found  it, 
sure  that  no  other  would  ever  see  it  now  that  he  was 
master  of  the  manor  house. 

The  sun  blazed  down  fiercely.  Geysbert  did  not 
heed  it.  It  was  not  as  hot  as  his  brain.  He  had  been 
toiling  in  it  all  day,  hurrying  along  in  his  canoe.  He 
was  not  conscious  of  the  heat,  only  of  a  burning  pain  in 
his  head,  and  of  a  fierce  ache  at  his  heart. 

He  was  under  the  shade  of  the  trees  now — in  the 
shelter  of  the  forest.  But  he  strode  along  at  a  pace 
that  forbade  coolness,  and  the  air  was  very  still  among 
the  trees.  An  irresistible  impulse  was  urging  him  on  to 
the  ravine  beneath  the  ledge  of  rock.     When  he  reached 


FREE   TO    SERVE  405 

it  he  stood  looking  in  a  dazed,  stupid  manner  upward. 
He  had  forgotten  his  brother,  forgotten  the  difficulties 
that  surrounded  him,  and  the  disclosures  that  lay  in  the 
future.  He  was  face  to  face  again  with  his  crowning 
act  of  cruelty.  A  great  longing  for  and  tenderness  tow- 
ards the  girl  against  whom  he  had  hardened  his  heart, 
swept  over  him. 

"  Fool,  fool  that  I  was  —  aye,  from  the  very  first !  " 

He  spoke  the  words  aloud  in  the  bitterness  of  his 
soul.  Then,  hardly  knowing  what  he  did,  he  scrambled 
up  where  the  rock  was  less  steep,  and  dragged  himself 
to  the  path  above.  With  straining  eyes  he  noted  the 
rough,  hard  rock  cropping  up  in  the  path. 

"  That's  where  I  dragged  her,"  he  said.  "  Geysbert 
Feljer,  hanging  is  too  good  for  you  !  " 

He  took  a  few  steps  along  the  path. 

The  fire  in  his  brain  burned  more  fiercely.  The  pain 
at  his  heart  had  grown  heavier.  It  seemed  possessed 
of  an  iron  hand  that  gripped  at  the  life  centre,  and 
smothered  the  heart's  beating.  He  staggered  and 
stumbled. 

"  Aveline  !     Oh,  Aveline  !  " 

The  words  were  only  a  whisper.  They  died  away, 
and  Geysbert  lay  upon  the  path,  his  head  on  one  of 
those  same  rough  stones  over  which  he  had  not 
scrupled  to  drag  the  girl  he  had  never  for  a  moment 
ceased  to  love. 

The  sun  went  down,  and  the  night  breezes  came. 
The  moon  peeped  in  among  the  trees,  and  shone  on 
Geysbert's  face,  but  it  did  not  rouse  him.  Even  the 
sound  of  voices  failed  to  do  that. 

"The  moon  is  accommodating.  We  shall  have  her 
light  till  morning,  when  we  shall  be  well  out  of  the  way 
of  these  heretics." 

The  language  was  not  the  prevailing  Dutch,  nor  the 
English  of  the  more  educated  classes  of  the  province. 


4o6  FREE   TO    SERVE 

The  speaker,  a  young  man  of  a  lithe,  Hght  frame,  was 
evidently  at  home  in  the  forest.  His  companion  made 
no  answer.  He  was  hurrying  on  ahead.  Suddenly  he 
stopped. 

"  Hasten,  Jacques,"  he  said,  in  the  French  tongue  in 
which  the  other  had  spoken.  "  Here  is  surely  an  object 
for  our  charity." 

"  Charity  be  eschewed  for  once,  father.  "  It  is  our 
place  to  save  our  necks." 

"  Nay,  my  son,  but  one  under  my  vows  cannot  leave 
a  fellow-man  to  die.  Quick !  Aid  me  in  loosening  his 
clothing.     Truly  he  seems  in  a  sad  plight." 

They  knelt  upon  the  path,  and  raised  Geysbert's  head. 
The  elder  forced  brandy  between  his  lips,  and  set  to 
work  to  restore  animation  in  a  manner  that  betokened 
some  skill.  It  was  long  before  he  was  successful.  When 
at  last  Geysbert  opened  his  eyes,  it  was  to  look  at  him 
with  a  broad,  unseeing  stare. 

"  This  is  an  unfortunate  business,"  said  the  older  man, 
after  he  had  tried  to  elicit  from  his  patient  some  infor- 
mation as  to  his  destination,  and  his  business  here  in 
the  forest.  "  The  time  is  passing,  and  if  we  be  not  far 
from  human  habitation  by  morning,  we  may  see  the 
inside  of  one  of  these  English  prisons." 

'*  Aye,  and  that  for  a  life  sentence,"  replied  the  other. 
"  Better  leave  the  heretic  where  he  lies.  It  is  all  any 
one  of  them  merits  at  our  hands." 

"  True,  my  son,  but  it  is  not  merit  that  wins  for  any 
of  us  aid.  To  leave  a  fellow-creature  here  to  die  would 
be  a  sin  which  much  penance  would  not  atone  for." 

"Then  what  will  you  do?  Wait  here  till  morning, 
and  let  one  of  these  Dutchmen  have  the  satisfaction  of 
clapping  into  prison  a  priest  of  the  holy  faith?  They'll 
do  it  fast  enough.  Forget  not  the  extent  of  the  law. 
If  found  in  this  province,  a  priest  may  by  any  citizen  be 
dragged  before  a  Justice,  to  meet  the  merciful  punish- 


FREE   TO    SERVE  407 

merit  of  perpetual  imprisonment,  with  a  prospect,  should 
he  break  jail,  of  dying  the  death  of  a  felon.  Truly  it  is 
a  pleasant  anticipation.  The  fellow  is  not  worth  the 
risk." 

"  He  is  a  human  being." 

"  Aye,  and  a  heretic.  How  much  would  he  do  for 
you  if  you  were  in  need  such  as  his?  His  very  laws 
forbid  him  to  succour  you.  Should  he  do  so,  he  would 
merit  and  receive  the  reward  of  a  heavy  fine,  with  a  three 
days'  occupancy  of  the  pillory  thrown  in.  Little  fear 
that  he  would  risk  such  delights  for  the  doubtful  good 
of  saving  the  life  of  a  priest." 

"  Peace,  my  son.  Such  a  spirit  savours  not  of  right. 
Let  your  arms  wag  instead  of  your  tongue.  We  have 
need  of  some  strong  boughs.  We  will  even  construct  a 
litter,  to  bear  yonder  poor  wretch  along  with  us.  It  is 
unsafe  to  approach  Dutch  habitations,  but  when  we 
reach  the  native  villages,  we  can  send  him  back,  provided 
there  is  life  yet  left  in  him." 

They  worked  with  a  will.  The  morning  light  found 
them  far  away  in  the  heart  of  the  forest,  where  only  an 
Indian  or  a  well-trained  woodsman  could  find  his  way. 
But  the  two  pressed  straight  on,  their  goal  an  Indian 
village  belonging  to  a  tribe  of  the  Five  Nations. 


4o8  FREE   TO    SERVE 


CHAPTER   XXXIX. 

THE  priest  and  his  companion  were  running  some 
risk  in  crossing  the  province  of  New  York.  Once 
among  their  Indian  converts  they  would  be  safe, 
for  it  was  not  the  poHcy  of  the  EngHsh  rulers  to  anger 
the  Indians,  and  strong  as  was  their  jealousy  and  dislike 
towards  the  leaders  of  the  French  Catholics,  their  desire 
to  propitiate  their  native  friends  was  stronger.  The  two 
journeyed  on,  with  very  little  rest,  the  younger  grum- 
bling loudly  at  the  added  burden  of  the  sick  man.  He 
lay  for  the  most  part  in  a  stupor,  now  and  then  rousing 
himself  to  mutter  wild  words. 

"  If  his  speech  be  anything  but  the  raving  of  a  mad- 
man, he  is  as  sorely  in  need  of  spiritual  succour  as  of 
bodily  assistance,"  said  the  young  man. 

It  was  on  the  night  before  they  reached  their  destina- 
tion that  Geysbert  first  showed  signs  of  returning  reason. 
Even  then  it  was  but  clouded  reason.  The  forest  was 
still,  the  younger  man  asleep.  The  priest,  much 
wearied,  knelt  by  the  litter.  His  eyes  were  lifted 
towards  the  stars.  Absorbed  in  his  devotions,  he  did 
not  perceive  that  the  sick  man's  gaze  was  fixed  upon 
him.  An  impatient  sigh  called  his  attention  back  to 
earth,  and  he  looked  down  into  eyes  that  for  the  first 
time  took  cognizance  of  his  presence  and  person. 

"  My  son,"  he  said,  "  can  I  do  aught  for  you?  " 

"Son?"  repeated  Geysbert  inquiringly.  "The  last 
who  called  me  that  was  my  mother —  and  I  killed  her." 

"  Such  a  sin  lies  heavy  on  the  conscience,  yet  is  there 
forgiveness  even  for  such." 

The  priest  spoke  soothingly.  He  knew  not  how  far 
the  words  had  been  the  ravings  of  a  disordered  brain. 


FREE   TO   SERVE  409 

"Forgiveness?  I  don't  know  that  I  crave  it.  For- 
getfulness  would  be  more  to  the  purpose.  Can  you 
offer  me  that?  " 

"  Nay,  my  son.  Memory  is  the  scar  left  by  the 
wound  of  sin.  He  who  would  escape  it  must  avoid 
evil." 

"Your  advice  comes  late,  and  your  words  are  bald," 
was  the  reply.  "A  scar?  Nay,  rather  a  deep  wound, 
a  fiery,  hungry  wound,  eating  down  into  an  aching  sore. 
'Tis  evident  you  know  not  of  what  you  speak." 

Geysbert  moved  impatiently.  The  priest  laid  his 
hand  on  the  hot  forehead. 

"  It  is  cool,"  said  the  young  man,  "  as  cool  as  the 
moonlight  when  it  shone  on  her  face." 

"  Whither  were  you  bound  when  I  found  you  upon 
the  path  by  the  deep  chasm  ?  "  asked  the  priest,  anxious, 
if  possible,  to  know  something  more  definite  about  his 
patient. 

"The  path  up  the  mountain  —  near  the  ravine?" 
Geysbert  spoke  slowly  and  hesitatingly.  "  Whither  was 
I  bound?  To  destruction.  It  is  my  only  destination 
now.  And  yet  —  I  think  —  yes,  I  was  to  find  my  brother 
first.     Then  destruction  will  need  no  seeking." 

"You  were  seeking  your  brother?  What  is  his 
name?  " 

"  Helmer  Feljer." 

"  And  where  were  you  going  to  find  him?  " 

"  That  I  do  not  know,  any  more  than  I  know  where 
I  am  myself" 

Geysbert  spoke  irritably,  and  the  priest  left  his  side. 
An  uneasy  sleep  presently  closed  the  restless  eyes,  and 
when  they  were  next  opened  Geysbert  was  being  carried 
through  the  forest.  The  party  entered  the  Indian 
village  at  dawn,  and  the  priest  bestowed  the  sick  man 
in  his  own  dwelling.  An  hour  later  his  companion 
entered  hurriedly. 


4IO  FREE   TO    SERVE 

"Your  pardon,  father,  for  intruding- upon  you  thus 
hastily,"  he  said,  "  but  I  bring  news.  It  will  be  possi- 
ble to  rid  ourselves  of  yonder  burden.  Two  of  his  race 
are  here,  nay,  about  to  depart.  They  have  as  much 
right  to  charge  themselves  with  him  as  had  we." 

"  What  do  they  here?  "  asked  the  priest. 

"What  do  I  here?"  asked  the  other,  laughing. 
"  Verily  the  hunter's  pelts  are  the  attraction  to  both. 
They  are  traders,  and  they  come  to  beguile  our 
friends." 

"  I  will  ask  them  to  visit  me  here,"  said  the  priest,  "  or 
possibly  you  will  save  me  the  labour,  my  good  Jacques, 
since  you  seem  to  be  already  acquainted  with  them." 

The  young  Frenchman's  information  was  of  a  very 
partial  nature.  He  had  seen  two  white  men  in  the 
village,  and  had  learned  that  certain  Indians  were  medi- 
tating a  journey  to  Albany  as  a  result  of  their  visit. 
All  beyond  this  was  inference.  He  did  not  know  that 
the  coming  of  himself  and  his  companion  had  troubled 
the  mind  of  one  of  the  strangers,  and  that  preparations 
for  departure  were  being  hastened.  To  Helmer  Feljer 
the  presence  of  the  Frenchmen  suggested  danger,  and 
his  anxiety  communicated  itself  to  Fulke.  As  yet, 
Aveline  knew  nothing  of  the  new  arrivals. 

The  three  had  been  in  the  Indian  village  long  enough 
for  Helmer  to  regain  some  of  his  former  strength. 
Fulke  was  in  haste  to  leave,  but  Aveline  would  not 
hear  of  deserting  her  patient  until  he  had  completely 
recovered.  The  presence  of  the  French  priest  brought 
matters  to  a  sudden  crisis.  Helmer  made  active  prep- 
arations for  taking  again  to  his  forest  life,  and  Fulke 
was  only  too   glad  to  go  back  to  Albany. 

It  was  Helmer  whom  Jacques  encountered  when  he 
went  out  to  deliver  his  friend's  message,  and,  much 
agdinst  his  will,  the  young  man  was  persuaded  to  enter 
the  dwelling. 


FREE    TO    SERVE  411 

"  My  friend,  I  have  ventured  to  send  for  you  to  ask 
your  good  offices  for  one  of  your  countrymen,"  said 
the  priest.  "  Yonder  Hes  a  sick  man,  one  of  your 
race.  Should  you  be  going  back  by  boat,  it  would  be 
a  charity  to  carry  him  along.  We  found  him  in  the 
woods,  and  for  divers  reasons  could  not  return  him  to 
his  friends." 

Helmer  approached  the  bed.  The  sleeping  man  moved 
uneasily.  The  priest  saw  his  visitor  stop,  his  face  grow- 
ing white  and  rigid.     For  a  minute  neither  spoke. 

"  You  know  him?  "  said  the  priest  at  last. 

"  Yes,  I  know  him." 

The  Frenchman  looked  from  one  to  the  other. 

"  You  have  known  him  long,"  he  said.  "  The  same 
mother  called  both  of  you  son." 

Helmer  turned  to  him  quickly. 

"You  are  right,"  he  said.  "He  is  my  brother.  I 
will  take  the  burden  off  your  hands.  But  I  would  ask 
that  when  he  shall  awake  we  may  be  alone." 

"  It  shall  be  as  you  say,"  was  the  answer. 

But  instead  of  leaving  the  hut,  the  priest  drew  yet 
nearer  to  his  visitor,  laying  his  hand  on  the  young 
man's  arm. 

"He  who  would  hope  to  receive  mercy  must  show 
himself  merciful,"  he  said. 

Helmer  looked  at  him  inquiringly. 

"What  do  you  know  of  him,  or  me?"  he  asked. 

"Little,"  was  the  reply.  "But  I  know  the  human 
heart.  It  needs  oft  to  take  counsel  with  mercy,  lest  it 
fail  to  remember  that  justice  and  revenge  at  times  are 
like   of  face." 

"  I  will  remember  that  he  is  sick,"  said  Helmer.  "As 
for  mercy,  it  may  not  always  take  precedence  of  justice." 

For  many  minutes  the  little  cabin  was  very  still.  Hel- 
mer was  alone  with  his  brother.  He  stood  looking  upon 
Geysbert's  face.     Something    in  that  face  softened  the 


412  FREE    TO    SERVE 

voice  of  justice.  It  was  so  worn  and  weary  and  full  of 
suffering.      Suddenly  the  sick  man's  lips  moved. 

*'  Aveline  !  "  he  said. 

The  pain  and  remorse  and  longing  in  the  one  word 
struck  home  to  Helmer's  heart.  He  realized  how  madly 
Geysbert  had  loved.      He  bent  over  his  brother. 

"  Geysbert,"  he  said  gently. 

Geysbert  opened  his  eyes.  For  a  moment  there  was 
in  them  a  look  of  recognition,  then  it  changed  to  terror. 
He  put  up  his  hand,  as  if  to  ward  off  a  blow. 

"  You  have  found  me,"  he  said.  "  It  was  I  who  was 
to  find  you  —  to  find  you,  and  tell  you.      I  killed  her." 

He  said  it  quietly,  but  with  an  intensity  of  horror  that 
communicated  itself  to  Helmer. 

"  You  killed  her?  " 

"Yes  —  murdered  her.  She  was  hurled  down  into 
the  ravine  —  among  the  rocks.  I  saw  the  blood  in  great 
clots." 

Violent  trembling  seized  him.  He  clutched  Helmer's 
hand. 

"  You  have  a  right  to  avenge  her,"  he  said.  "  She  be- 
longed to  you,  not  to  me.  I  said  you  had  no  right  to 
her,  but  you  had.  She  was  right,  and  you  were  right, 
and  my  mother  was  right.      I  alone  was  a  fool." 

"  Yes,  you  were  that." 

The  bitterness  had  not  all  gone  from  Helmer's  voice, 
though  its  tone  was  not  hard. 

"  Do  you  think  I  have  not  learned  it?  I  would  give 
my  life,  yes,  by  inches,  to  undo  my  work.  It  can  never 
be  undone.  Listen  !  I  dragged  her  behind  my  horse, 
bound  and  helpless.  Yes,  I  cruelh'  dragged  her  —  Ave- 
line —  over  the  rough  rocks,  and  I  saw  her  white  face 
and  would  not  stop.  1  did  not  care,  until  I  heard  her 
cry  as  she  went  over  into  the  ravine.  I  was  drunk  then 
—  I  have  been  mad  since." 

"  And  now?     You  are  sorry  for  your  violence?  " 


FREE    TO    SERVE  415 

Helmer  asked  the  question  very  distinctly.  He 
wanted  the  words  to  reach  the  fevered  brain. 

"  Sorry  !  "  Geysbert  laughed  fiercely.  "  Do  you 
know  what  hell  is?  I  do.  I've  been  there  ever  since 
that  night.  I  shall  never  be  anywhere  else.  But  there's 
deeper  torment,  even  in  hell,"  he  continued,  "  and  it 
came  to  me.  If  there  be  a  deeper  still,  I  suppose  it 
will  come  too.  Yes,  it  came  when  the  slave  Cato  con- 
fessed his  crime,  and  I  knew  that  it  was  my  own  mad 
jealousy,  and  that  alone,  that  had  made  a  fool  of  me.  I 
was  not  a  murderer  only,  but  a  murderer  without  excuse. 
You  were  innocent.  I  had  broken  my  mother's  heart, 
and  driven  you  from  home,  and  murdered  her,  and  all 
to  uphold  a  lie.  I  had  at  least  had  a  shred  of  excuse 
for  my  vindictiveness.     Now  there  was  none." 

"  And  you  were  convinced  of  my  innocence?  " 

"  Aye,  /  was  convinced.  There  was  no  gainsaying 
it.  The  poor  wretch  confessed  his  crime  before  he 
died.  You  are  a  free  man — free  to  take  your  re- 
venge." 

"  Hush,"  said  Helmer  gently.  "  I  want  no  revenge. 
I  would  but  be  sure  that  you  honestly  repent  of  your 
cruelty  to  her." 

"  Repent !  "  replied  Geysbert,  and  his  voice  rose 
sharply.  "What  is  the  use  of  repentance?  Will  it 
bring  her  back?  Will  it  still  the  sound  of  that  cry, 
and  take  away  the  memory  of  that  rope  as  it  hung  by 
one  strand  over  the  black  chasm?  Will  repentance  do 
that?" 

Again  the  trembling  seized  him,  Helmer  made  no 
answer.  He  stood  looking  down  upon  him.  Then  he 
forcibly  disengaged  his  hand,  and  left  the  sick  man 
alone. 

It  was  not  long  before  he  returned,  not  long  enough 
for  that  fit  of  trembling  to  have  ceased.  The  hands  that 
lay  upon  the   bed-clothes  shook  painfully.     A   sob  or 


414  FREE    TO    SERVE 

two  came  from  between  the  quivering  lips.  Geysbert 
did  not  look  round  when  two  figures  entered  the  door. 

"  Go  to  him,"  whispered  Helmer,  and  Aveline  ad- 
vanced slowly.  Her  face  was  hard  and  cold.  Memo- 
ries of  the  old  Geysbert  were  to  the  front.  Her  eye  fell 
on  that  quivering,  sorrowful,  broken  Geysbert,  and  the 
hardness  began  to  yield.  Yet  there  was  enough  stern- 
ness left  to  account  for  the  cry  which  broke  from  Geys- 
bert's  lips. 

"  Aveline  !  "  he  gasped.  "  You  have  come  in  ven- 
geance." Yet  he  stretched  out  his  hands  towards  her. 
"  I  am  ready  to  meet  the  judgment  I  have  merited,"  he 
said.  "  Helmer  will  avenge  you,  and  I  will  not  resist. 
Your  eyes  are  full  of  reproach.  Yet  even  thus  I  would 
rather  see  you  than  lose  you  forever.  I  have  seen  you 
ever  since,  but  not  like  this.  That  was  your  white, 
frightened  face — this —  is  an  avenging  face." 

"  Nay,  dear  Geysbert,  it  is  a  forgiving  face." 

She  bent  over  him,  and  took  his  hand  in  her  own. 
There  were  tears  in  her  eyes.  He  felt  the  warm  touch 
of  her  fingers,  and  recoiled.  Once  more  the  trembling 
increased.     His  teeth  chattered. 

"  What  is  it?  "  he  said.     "  Oh,  it  cannot  be  — " 

He  looked  towards  Helmer  pitifully. 

"  It  is  Aveline  herself,"  said  his  brother  tenderly. 
"  See,  her  hands  are  touching  yours.  They  are  warm. 
You  did  not  kill  her,  though  it  might  well  have  been  as 
you  feared." 

He  lay  looking  from  one  to  the  other.  Slowly  the 
trembling  lessened. 

"  Repentance  instead  of  despair,"  he  said  at  last. 
Then  he  turned  to  Aveline.  "  In  years  to  come  it  may 
be  that  you  will  learn  to  forgive,"  he  said.     "  I  will  wait." 

She  bent  over  and  kissed  him. 

"  Dear  brother  Geysbert,"  she  said,  "  you  need  not 
wait.     Let  us  be  one  again,  in  the  way  madam  wished." 


FREE    TO    SERVE  415 

"  You  forgive  me?"  he  asked. 

"  Fully,"  replied  Aveline. 

**  But  Helmer  cannot  forgive.  He  loves  you  too 
well.  I  could  not  forgive  such  wrong  to  one  I  loved  as 
I  love  you." 

Helmer  gently  removed  Aveline's  hand  from  Geys- 
bert's. 

"  Geysbert,  dear  old  brother,"  he  said,  "  can  we 
begin  fairly  now?  I  think  I  know  better  to-day  than 
ever  I  did  before,  what  I  am  asking.  But  I  ask  it. 
Your  love  for  her  has  been  strong  enough  to  lead  you 
to  make  her  miserable.  Is  it  strong  enough  to  con- 
strain you  to  make  her  happy?" 

Geysbert  hesitated.  Then  his  hand  slowly  travelled 
towards  the  two  which  lay  so  near  to  each  other. 
Drops  of  perspiration  broke  out  on  his  forehead. 

"  Take  her,  Helmer,"  he  said.  "  I  know  now  that 
she  could  never  have  been  for  me.  I  was  too  utterly 
unworthy  of  her." 

He  brought  the  two  hands  together.  They  both 
closed  over  his  own. 

Later  Geysbert  tried  to  tell  of  the  missing  will,  and 
of  his  own  culpability  in  hiding  it  again,  but  Helmer 
stopped  him. 

"  The  past  is  done  with,"  he  said.  "  When  we  go 
back  we  will  find  the  will  together." 

It  took  some  persuasion  to  prevent  Fulke  from  having 
some  retributive  words  with  Geysbert. 

"You  may  all  be  as  soft-hearted  as  you  please,"  he 
said.  "  It  is  my  place  to  look  after  Aveline.  On  one 
point  I  am  determined.  She  goes  out  of  my  care  no 
more  until  she  is  definitely  given  into  the  care  of  one 
who  has  more  right  to  her." 

"And  how  soon  may  that  be?"  asked  Helmer 
eagerly. 

"Not  before  the  autumn,  at  least.    You  must  have  time 


41 6  FREE   TO    SERVE 

to  arrange  matters  at  the  manor  house,  and  to  test  Geys- 
bert's  temper.  I  have  got  my  sister  back,  and  I  will 
risk  her  Hfe  and  happiness  no  more.  And  another 
thing.  She  must  be  legally  free  before  she  takes  on 
herself  a  new  bondage." 

"  It  would  have  been  my  first  care  in  any  case,"  said 
Helmer. 

Two  days  later  the  party  broke  up,  Helmer  and  Geys- 
bert  to  return  to  the  manor  house,  as  soon  as  the  latter 
was  sufficiently  recovered  to  travel,  and  Aveline  and 
Fulke,  with  Fulke's  negroes,  to  go  to  Albany.  The 
journey  by  boat  was  not  a  hard  one,  as  had  been  the 
first  part  of  that  former  journey  through  the  forest, 
before  the  point  was  reached  where  Fulke  had  left  his 
attendants.  Aveline  had  time  for  thought,  and  her 
thoughts  were  glad  ones.  Helmer  was  cleared,  and  the 
manor  house  his  own. 

"  If  only  dear  madam  had  lived  to  see  it  all,"  she 
said  regretfully. 

Warmer  tints  were  touching  the  forest  when  Aveline 
came  back  to  the  manor  house,  no  longer  in  the  char- 
acter of  Aveline  Nevard,  but  as  the  young  Madam 
Feljer.  Ryseck  Schredel  stood  in  the  hall  to  welcome 
her. 

"  I  told  you  I  would  come  back,  Ryseck,"  said  Ave- 
line, —  and  she  passed  by  the  outstretched  hand,  and 
laughed  as  she  kissed  the  honest  Dutch  face,  —  "  and 
here  I  am." 

"  Aye,  my  dear,  here  you  are,  and  right  glad  I  am  to 
set  eyes  on  you  again,"  said  Ryseck.  "  I  never  doubted 
that  you'd  be  back  when  your  work  was  accomplished." 

Ryseck  had  little  to  say  in  those  days. 

"  When  there  are  no  robbers  around,  the  watch  dog 
may  keep  his  mouth  shut,"  she  remarked  to  Philip.  "  It's 
an  ill-bred  cur  that  growls  at  friend  and  foe  alike." 

On  this  principle  Ryseck's  mouth  had  been  shut  from 


FREE    TO    SERVE  417 

the  day  when  Arent  Hooghland,  disappointed  and  crest- 
fallen, had  decided  that  there  was  land  around  Esopus 
that  would  prove  more  to  his  liking  than  any  on  the  Fel- 
jer  estate,  and  when,  with  Helmer's  full  consent,  all  obli- 
gations between  them  were  cancelled,  and  Arent  looked 
his  last  on  the  house  he  had  helped  to  make  desolate. 
With  him  departed  all  need — even  in  Ryseck's  estima- 
tion —  of  a  watch  dog  at  the  manor  house. 

It  was  Geysbert  himself  who  brought  the  missing  will 
to  Aveline,  and  that  on  the  evening  of  her  return  to  the 
manor  house.      He  spread  it  open  on  the  table. 

"  There  is  one  clause  here  that  you  must  read,"  he 
said. 

He  put  his  finger  at  the  place,  and  while  she  read,  his 
gaze  never  left  her  face.  She  lifted  her  eyes  at  last,  and, 
startled  as  they  were,  they  met  his. 

"  It  makes  me  a  bigger  brute  than  ever,  doesn't  it?  " 
he  said,  and  there  was  an  unusual  hoarseness  in  his 
voice. 

"  It  makes  me  happier  than  ever,"  replied  Aveline. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Fulke,  from  the  other  side  of 
the  big  room.  Fulke  was  very  jealous  for  Aveline  now, 
determined,  in  this  the  beginning  of  a  new  life  for  her, 
to  do  his  duty  rigorously  as  guardian  in  the  place  of  Sir 
Julian.     He  and  Helmer  crossed  to  Geysbert's  side. 

"  It  is  a  clause  in  my  mother's  will,"  said  Geysbert. 

"  And  it  explains  why  I  could  not  keep  my  promise 
about  a  certain  legal  matter  relating  to  Aveline,"  said 
Helmer. 

He  held  out  his  hand  for  the  will,  but  Geysbert  re- 
tained it.  It  was  he  who  read  the  words:  "To  my 
dear  daughter  Aveline  I  leave  the  knowledge  of  her 
freedom.  The  actual  freedom  has  been  hers  for  many 
months,  having  been  duly  and  legally  recorded  before 
her  journey  with  me  to  New  York.  Whereas  she  was 
once,  as  a  matter  of  form,  bound  to  me  for  a  period  of 


41 8  FREE    TO    SERVE 

five  years,  which  form  was  only  maintained  as  a  legal 
means  of  asserting  my  guardianship  over  her,  she  was 
at  that  time  set  at  liberty,  that  not  even  a  form  of  bond- 
age might  remain,  seeing  I  owe  to  her  many  times  over 
the  small  sum  advanced  originally  on  her  behalf,  having 
received  from  her  hand  services  many  and  varied." 

Geysbert's  voice  was  not  quite  steady  as  he  finished 
the  words.  His  hand  dropped  to  his  side.  He  was 
looking  at  Aveline  again. 

"  And  with  that  there  I  was  fool  enough  to  claim  to 
be  — your  master,"  he  said. 

"You  did  not  know  how  presumptuous  you  were," 
she  replied,  smiling. 


FREE   TO    SERVE  419 


CHAPTER    XL 

THE  window  was  open  wide,  and  Sir  Julian  stood 
with  his  back  to  it,  in  precisely  the  same  attitude 
in  which  he  had  stood  more  than  four  years  be- 
fore, when  he  and  Lady  Betty  had  a  contention  —  not 
quite  amicable  —  about  the  future  of  the  boy  and  girl 
who  did  not  occupy  the  same  position  relatively  in  the 
hearts  of  the  two  combatants.  But  that  was  in  the 
library  of  the  Great  House,  whereas,  to-  day,  the  street  to 
which  Sir  Julian's  back  was  turned,  was  part  of  the  busi- 
ness centre  of  that  pushing,  struggling  province  to  which 
Fulke's  aspirations  had  at  that  time  longingly  turned. 

The  determination  to  see  his  brother's  "  little  girl  " 
once  more,  and  to  assure  himself  of  her  welfare,  had 
caused  Sir  Julian  to  take  a  step  which  reduced  his 
neighbours  to   a  state  of  open-eyed  amazement. 

"  I  have  a  desire  to  see  the  New  World  for  myself," 
Sir  Julian  said,  "  for  truly  it  seems  no  howling  waste, 
now  that  the  letters  of  my  nephew  and  niece  have  ren- 
dered me  familiar  with  its  details.  I  would  even  judge 
of  it  first  hand." 

"  Going  to  the  colonies  are  you?  "  quoth  Lady  Betty. 
"And  pray  how  soon?  Not  but  that  the  time  which 
would  suffice  for  you  to  bestow  your  possessions  in  a 
good  oaken  chest  would  avail  for  my  preparations  also. 
Yet  will  it  be  necessary  to  give  the  maids  a  little  whole- 
some advice  before  I  leave  them,  and  that,  I'll  wager, 
will  take  more  than  a  day  or  two." 

Sir  Julian  looked  at  her  with  surprise.  She  answered 
the  look,  for  there  was  nothing  else  to  answer. 

"  I  don't  know  but  I  have  taken  as  much  stock  in  the 
boy  as  you  have  in  the  girl,"  she  said.     "  I,  too,   have 


420  FREE   TO    SERVE 

perchance  suddenly  grown  curious  about  the  New 
World." 

In  truth  neither  Sir  Julian  nor  Lady  Betty  had  felt 
quite  easy  during  these  years.  When  the  first  intima- 
tion of  her  bondage  came  to  her,  Aveline  had  said  that 
Sir  Julian  must  never  know.  To  that  determination  she 
strictly  adhered,  and  Fulke  was  little  likely  to  tell  the 
story  of  his  own  failure.  To  Sir  Julian  came  letters  tell- 
ing of  a  home  provided  for  Aveline  in  one  of  the  best 
families  of  the  land,  where  her  training  in  the  higher 
forms  of  household  duties  would  be  carried  on  as  care- 
fully as  if  still  in  Lady  Betty's  own  hands.  Fulke,  on 
his  part,  enlarged  on  the  dangers  of  a  trader's  life,  and 
explained  that  by  the  present  arrangement  his  sister 
escaped  much  loneliness  during  his  long  expeditions. 
At  first  each  tried  to  put  into  the  letters  more  hopeful- 
ness than  was  really  felt,  but  as  time  went  on,  the  tone 
of  the  communications  changed.  That  which  she  had 
before  introduced  by  force,  crept  into  Aveline's  letters 
now  unnoticed,  being  the  outward  sign  of  a  satisfied 
heart.  Fulke's  news  also  was  full  of  notes  of  success. 
Sir  Julian  marked  the  change,  and  smiled  over  it. 

"  Poor  little  maid,"  he  said,  "  the  heart  aches  are 
lessening,  and  the  heart  joys  appearing." 

When  he  first  learned  of  Aveline's  sojourn  at  the 
manor  house,  Sir  Julian  wrote  to  Madam  Feljer,  and 
received  a  characteristic  reply.  Madam  had  by  this 
time  come  to  appreciate  the  maiden  of  whom  she  had 
unexpectedly  gained  possession,  and  she  knew  of  Ave- 
line's desire  to  shield  her  brother.  Thus  it  was  that  no 
hint  of  danger  reached  Sir  Julian.  Yet  he  was  not 
easy.  This  was  not  the  life  he  had  anticipated  for  Ave- 
line, neither  would  it  put  upon  Fulke  the  responsibility 
his  uncle  desired  for  him.  He  could  never  think  of 
Aveline  without  a  twinge  of  compunction.  Her  banish- 
ment, as  Sir  Julian  termed  it,  was  a  standing  subject  of 


FREE   TO    SERVE  421 

dispute  between  him  and  Lady  Betty.  Even  the  news 
of  Aveline's  marriage  did  not  quite  set  Sir  Julian's  mind 
at  rest,  though  it  set  Lady  Betty  triumphing  over  him. 
How  was  he  to  know  that  the  child  had  been  given  a 
fair  chance  to  learn  her  own  mind?  And  this  young 
man?  What  was  to  prove  that  he  was  worthy  of  her? 
Sir  Julian  had  a  little  British  exclusiveness  in  his  com- 
position, and  he  was  not  prepared  at  once  to  echo 
Fulke's  expressions  of  satisfaction. 

The  desire  to  see  for  himself  grew  steadily.  He 
wanted  to  set  his  mind  at  rest.  At  last  that  desire 
resolved  itself  into  action.  Sir  Julian  and  Lady  Betty 
crossed  the  water,  and  Aveline,  in  a  flutter  of  happiness, 
welcomed  them  to  her  New  York  home.  For  Helmer 
had  purchased  a  house  in  the  city,  one  of  modest  di- 
mensions compared  with  the  elaborate  structure  that  was 
not  yet  quite  completed  on  Geysbert's  property  outside 
the  town. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  hide  you  forever  at  the  manor 
house,"  Helmer  said.  "  I  want  the  world  to  envy  me 
my  treasure." 

There  was  something  in  Sir  Julian's  attitude  to-day 
that  acted  like  a  challenge  on  Lady  Betty.  Just  so  he 
had  stood  many  a  time,  while  he  argued  that  Aveline 
had  been  sacrificed  for  her  brother.  The  good  lady's 
eyes  passed  those  broad  shoulders,  and  through  the 
corner  of  the  window  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  young  man 
without. 

"There,  now!  "  she  cried  triumphantly.  "  It's  taken 
four  years  to  answer  your  question  fully,  but  where  will 
you  find  a  better  answer  than  that?  'What'll  the  lad 
make? '  croaked  you,  on  the  day  I  urged  the  wisdom  of 
giving  him  another  chance.  Aye,  what?  He  was  but 
in  the  puppy  stage  then.  There's  your  answer.  What 
has  he  made?  Do  you  want  a  finer  specimen  of  young 
manhood  than  that?" 


422  FREE    TO    SERVE 

Sir  Julian  turned  his  head.  Fulke  stood  in  the  street, 
looking  earnestly  in  the  direction  in  which,  but  a  minute 
before,  a  group  of  sailors  had  passed,  most  of  them  a 
little  less  accountable  for  their  actions,  and  a  little  more 
dangerous  to  the  community,  than  before  they  had 
sought  to  quench  their  thirst  and  raise  their  spirits  by 
stronger  drinks  than  Nature  herself  provided.  Sir 
Julian's  eye  rested  on  the  young  man,  and  his  face 
softened. 

"  You  are  right,"  he  said.  "  The  lad  has  greatly 
changed.  It  is  even  possible  that  the  end  has  justified 
the  means,  yet  truly,  had  I  known  the  various  steps  from 
the  beginning,  the  first  had  never  been  taken." 

"Steps,  forsooth  !  And  who's  going  to  sit  down  and 
whine  over  every  unlucky  step;  when  he's  already  well 
up  the  hill  of  success?" 

"Who,  indeed?"  replied  Sir  Julian.  "Not  the  one 
on  whom  the  brunt  of  those  missteps  came,  surely. 
You  may  wager  she's  never  counted  up  the  cost  of  each 
one.  And  you  may  be  fairly  sure  she  reckons  the  price 
as  none  too  high  for  the  result  gained  —  the  making  of 
a  man  of — well,  one  who  was  like  to  stay  over-long  in 
that  same  puppy  stage.  A  worthy  object  enough  to 
out-weigh  any  sacrifice,  eh?  " 

The  rich  musical  voice  ceased.  Sir  Julian  was  not 
waiting  for  an  answer.  His  thoughts  had  passed  beyond 
Lady  Betty  to  the  point  from  which  her  words  had 
called  him  a  minute  or  two  ago.  For  to-day  Sir  Julian 
understood,  as  he  had  not  done  before,  just  what  were 
the  steps  which  had  led  to  Fulke's  present  position  and 
character.  The  older  man  was  not  inclined  to  deny  that 
the  voluntary  putting  of  him  in  possession  of  those  facts 
was  in  itself  sufficient  proof  that  the  Fulke  of  London 
days  had  disappeared.  The  young  man  who  sought  an 
opportunity  to  explain  to  Aveline's  guardian  how  com- 
pletely he  had  failed  in  the  trust  delegated  to  him,  was 


FREE   TO    SERVE  423 

not  the  Fulke  who  had  confidently  asserted  his  integrity 
in  the  Hbrary  at  Eastenholme.  He  made  no  excuses 
for  himself.  He  allowed  the  facts  to  stand  out  in  all 
their  bare   unpleasantness. 

Beginning  at  the  moment  when  he  left  Eastenholme, 
he  carried  his  hearer  through  those  weeks  in  London, 
when  the  battle  was  fought  and  lost,  and  filled  in  the 
story  of  the  voyage  across  the  sea,  ending  with  his  own 
frantic  journey  to  Albany,  and  the  leaving  of  Aveline 
to  meet  the  emergency  alone.  His  voice  lost  its  steadi- 
ness as  he  came  to  that  day  when  Aveline  too  embarked 
upon  a  river  boat,  and  as  he  told  of  her  lonely  wander- 
ing- in  the  storm  and  darkness.  There  his  confession 
stopped.  He  had  nothing  to  say  about  more  recent 
dangers.  That  was  another's  story,  and  Aveline  had  de- 
creed that  it  should  never  be  told.  It  was  his  own  failure 
of  trust  with  which  he  had  to  do,  and  he  kept  to  that. 

**  I  deemed  it  but  fair  to  render  you  an  account  of 
my  stewardship,  sir,"  he  said.  "  For  long  my  unpardon- 
able folly  caused  me  fear  and  shame  —  fear  for  her,  and 
shame  for  myself.  At  present  nothing  but  the  shame 
remains.     She  has  now  a  better  protector  than  myself." 

"  Which  is  saying  but  little  for  the  young  man,  her 
husband,"  said   Sir  Julian  drily. 

Fulke  made  no  answer.  He  had  not  sought  this 
interview  without  being  prepared  for  Sir  Julian's 
reproaches.  He  knew  that  that  mellow  voice  could 
say  cutting  things,  and  he  braced  himself  to  listen. 
They  would  not  be  harder  than  he  deserved. 

There  came  a  long  silence  after  he  had  done  speaking. 

"  Well,  we  may  consider  ourselves  failures,  disgrace- 
ful and  pitiable  failures,  so  far  as  our  guardianship  is 
concerned,"  said  Sir  Julian  at  last.  "The  next  time  I 
let  a  duty  of  my  own  slip  into  other  hands,  it  will  take 
a  stronger  incentive  than  the  buying  of  one  life  at  the 
expense  of  another  —  and  better.      However,  we  have 


424  FREE    TO    SERVE 

failed,  both  of  us.  We  may  as  well  acknowledge  our 
failure  to  one  another,  and  start  afresh." 

He  held  out  his  hand  to  his  nephew. 

"  You  have  at  least  had  the  sense  to  make  something 
out  of  the  life  she  gave  herself  for,"  he  said. 

Now  his  eyes  rested  kindly  on  the  young  man  as  he 
stood  below  the  window. 

"If  you  have  come  down  out  of  the  clouds,  I  would 
suggest  the  closing  of  that  window,"  Lady  Betty's  voice 
broke  in  on  his  thoughts.  "  Those  drunken  sailors  are 
returning,  and  their  words  and  songs  are  shocking  to 
decent  ears.  I  wonder  what  the  governor  can  be  think- 
ing of  not  to  put  such  pestilent  fellows  in  the  pillory. 
Truly  they  should  be  taught  a  lesson." 

The  sailors  were  almost  opposite  the  window  when 
Sir  Julian  moved  hastily  to  close  it. 

"  Surely  you  are  right,"  he  said.  "That  they  have 
to-day  come  into  port  with  a  captured  Spanish  war-ship 
is  no  excuse  for  such  ribald  talk,  and  such  offensive 
behaviour.  Yet  it  is  best,  perhaps,  to  let  them  go  their 
way.  The  heat  of  wine  is  in  their  brains,  and  has  driven 
out  what  sense  was  once  there." 

The  sailors  looked  up  towards  the  window  as  they 
passed,  and  seeing  Sir  Julian  and  Lady  Betty  standing 
before  it,  one  of  them  gave  utterance  to  an  expression 
which  called  forth  loud  shouts  from  his  fellows.  Fulke, 
who  had  thought  it  prudent  to  enter  the  house  before 
they  reached  it,  heard  the  remark,  and  his  eyes  flashed. 
He  took  a  step  forward,  and  then  drew  back  again.  It  was 
folly  single-handed  to  attack  such  a  company.  He  waited 
until  they  had  passed,  and  then  stepped  from  the  door. 

"This  is  business  for  the  sheriff,"  he  said,  as  Sir 
Julian  opened  the  window  to  speak  to  him.  "  That  the 
men  are  elated  with  their  success  is  not  sufficient  reason 
for  tolerating  such  behaviour  as  this.  I  go  to  acquaint 
him  with  their  conduct  and  condition." 


FREE   TO    SERVE  425 


CHAPTER    XLI 

"  r  ■  ^RULY  man's  virtues  are  pitiably  limited  in  their 
I  scope.  That  yonder  sailors  should  fight  like 
JL  heroes  against  their  country's  enemies,  and  then 
be  weakly  led  captive  by  their  own  appetites  until  the 
land  they  have  so  lately  served  has  reason  to  be  ashamed 
and  confounded  because  of  them,  is  a  strange  contra- 
diction." 

It  was  the  same  rhythmical  voice  in  which  Probity  had 
greeted  her  aunt  three  years  before.  The  undertone  of 
sadness  had  not  left  it,  but  had  rather  grown  more 
apparent.  Probity  herself  was  changed,  yet  she  was 
the  same  Probity.  Mouth  and  eyes  were  less  at  vari- 
ance than  of  old.  The  unity  had  not  been  accomplished 
at  the  expense  of  the  eyes  ;  tJiey  had  more  than  held 
their  own.  It  was  not  a  less  beautiful  face,  but  it  was 
softer  and  more  tenderly  human  than  the  one  into  which 
Geysbert  had  looked  when  he  stood  on  the  boat  and 
knew  that  with  Probity  his  last  comfort  was  departing 
from  the  manor  house. 

Geysbert  had  never  acted  upon  Strivewell  Thaxter's 
suggestion,  and  followed  his  cousin  to  her  New  England 
home.  But  he  had  not  forgotten  her.  The  place  she 
had  occupied  did  not  fill  up.  The  memory  of  the  eyes 
that  had  looked  into  his  had  not  faded.  Probity  had 
held  towards  him  a  unique  relationship.  Only  she, 
among  those  who  now  freely  gave  him  a  place  in  their 
hearts,  had  loved  him  while  yet  he  was  determinately 
sinning.  Aveline  had  scorned  him.  Helmer  had  been 
bitterly  angry.  But  Probity,  while  not  for  a  moment 
cloaking  his  sin,  rather  while  acknowledging  it  more 
fully  than  did   any  other,  had  yet   kept  her  heart  open 


426  FREE   TO    SERVE 

towards  him.  So  far  from  casting  him  off,  she  had 
taken  his  sin  on  her  own  soul. 

His  memory  of  her  was  tender,  but  he  did  not  seek 
her.  He  had  enough  to  do  to  live  down  the  passion 
which  had  taken  possession  of  him.  He  never  again 
grudged  Helmer  his  happiness.  Once  and  forever  he 
had  put  down  with  a  strong  hand  that  craving  of  his 
heart.  He  owned  his  punishment  just.  Not  only  must 
Aveline  belong  to  Helmer,  but  he  could  never  stand 
before  her  other  than  as  a  guilty  man.  She  had  for- 
given, very  fully  and  completely.  She  had  even  come 
to  see  that  she  had  often  been  hard  on  Geysbert.  But 
between  him  and  her  —  on  his  side,  not  on  hers —  was 
the  barrier  of  his  own  act.  When  his  heart  cried  out  for 
the  love  it  craved,  he  put  that  act  before  it.  Because  it 
had  sinned,  it  must  suffer,  and  it  had  no  right  to  cry 
out  beneath  the  suffering.  Geysbert  was  a  proud  man, 
but  towards  Aveline  his  pride  was  humbled.  He  never 
allowed  it  place  again. 

As  time  went  on,  the  pain  became  less  acute.  It  was 
pain  still,  but  it  had  grown  dull.  He  could  look  on 
Helmer's  gladness  without  that  violent  effort  to  crush 
his  own  passion.  The  sight  of  Aveline  did  not  make 
his  heart  beat  as  irregularly  as  it  had  done  at  first. 
There  was  no  such  disturbance  of  the  heart  when  he 
thought  of  Probity,  but  there  was  an  increasing  tender- 
ness. There  was  no  barrier  between  her  and  him. 
When  first  she  heard  of  Aveline's  return,  she  wrote  him 
a  letter  which  was  so  like  Probity  that  his  eyes  grew 
dim  as  he  read  it.  It  was  full  of  compunction  for  hav- 
ing misjudged  him,  and  of  humility  because  her  confi- 
dence in  her  own  judgment  had  led  her  astray.  In 
answer  to  that  letter  Geysbert  sent  to  her  the  plain 
unvarnished  tale  of  his  night  ride  and  its  consequences. 
It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  loving  words  of  warning 
and  thankfulness  which  came  in  response  were  balm  to 


FREE    TO    SERVE  427 

his  wound.  Probity's  love  shone  through  every  word. 
Where  all  the  rest  gave  pity  and  forgiveness,  she  offered 
an  unbroken,  uninterrupted  affection.  She  was  the  same 
Probity  who  first  persistently  believed  in  him,  and  then 
risked  her  own  peace  for  him.  He  felt  sure  of  her,  and 
the  assurance  was  healing.  Even  from  the  beginning 
the  world  would  have  been  more  desolate  to  Geysbert 
if  there  had  not  been  the  knowledge  of  Probity  —  away 
from  him,  living  a  life  altogether  apart  from  the  remorse 
of  his  sorrowful  days  —  yet  loyal  to  him,  true  in  the 
love  that  in  her  heart  would  never  waver. 

He  said  very  little  about  his  cousin,  and  presently  he 
went  away  to  New  York  to  superintend  the  building  of 
his  house,  and  to  engage  in  certain  trading  operations  in 
connection  with  other  lands.  But  in  Aveline's  mind  a 
plan  had  been  maturing,  and  when  she  and  Helmer 
came  to  the  city,  she  put  that  plan  into  action.  The 
result  of  it  was  —  Probity,  here  in  New  York. 

Probity  had  risen  at  Aveline's  entrance.  Her  arms 
were  encircling  a  diminutive  specimen  of  humanity, 
Aveline's  little  one,  the  baby  Julian.  That  small  tyrant 
had  taken  to  Probity  at  once.  He  must  surely  have 
divined  the  steadfast  strength  of  the  heart  that  beat  close 
to  his  tiny  head  as  he  pillowed  it  on  her  bosom,  for  he 
rested  there  contented.  Pie  was  a  baby  of  some  dis- 
cernment. He  honoured  Sir  Julian  with  a  smile,  and 
condescended  to  clutch  a  finger  held  out  to  him,  but  he 
stoutly  refused  to  have  anything  to  do  with  Lady  Betty. 
He  puckered  up  his  face  into  a  frown,  and  turned  his 
head  perversely  from  her. 

"  A  little  wild  Indian,  and  nothing  better,"  said  Lady 
Betty  wrathfully. 

But  about  Probity  his  mind  was  made  up.  He  even 
refrained  from  manifesting  any  undue  preference  for 
Aveline's    arms,    which   were  held   out  to   him   as   she 


428  FREE    TO    SERVE 

entered.  She  carried  him  to  the  window,  and  stood 
looking  out,  her  face  very  glad  and  satisfied. 

"You  are  right,"  she  said.  "These  sailors  are  in  a 
disgraceful  state.  They  are  in  a  dangerous  state,  too," 
she  added,  as  she  noted  the  reckless  way  in  which  they 
accosted  a  passer-by. 

"  Is  not  yonder  the  sheriff  coming  with  your  brother?" 
said  Probity.  "  I  trust  the  good  man  will  be  discreet, 
for  truly  these  privateersmen  are  altogether  too  ready 
to  resort  to  blows." 

It  would  have  required  some  discretion  to  have  dealt 
with  those  sailors.  They  were  the  crew  of  a  noted  pri- 
vateer, and  accounted  themselves  heroes.  Their  contest 
with  the  Spaniards  had  been  a  fierce  one,  and  their 
elation  was  in  proportion  to  the  hardness  of  the  fight. 
Every  other  feeling  was  swallowed  up  in  drunken  pride, 
and  they  thought  themselves  more  than  a  match  for  the 
whole  city  of  New  York.  The  sheriff  received  but  scant 
courtesy  at  their  hands.  Sir  Julian,  standing  by  the 
lower  window,  grew  so  excited  and  indignant  that  he 
had  almost  precipitated  himself  into  the  midst  of  the 
fray.  Lady  Betty,  however,  was  on  hand.  She  took 
a  firm  grip   of   his  coat. 

"  Sit  you  down,  and  keep  calm,"  she  said.  "  You 
journeyed  hither  to  see  the  colonies.  Now  look  at 
them.  Truly  you  did  not  cross  the  sea  to  come  to 
fisticuffs  with  offscouring  such  as  yon." 

Fulke  and  one  or  two  passers-by  had  rallied  to  the 
assistance  of  the  sheriff,  but  the  sailors  outnumbered 
them.  There  was  a  short  scuffle,  in  which  the  defenders 
of  the  law  had  so  much  the  worst  of  it  that  the  sheriff, 
much  bruised  and  battered,  took  to  his  heels,  and  ran 
towards  his  own  house,  followed  by  the  noisy  crew,  who 
for  the  time  left  their  other  enemies  unmolested,  and 
gave  their  whole  attention  to  the  pursuit. 

"Verily  the  good  man's  life  is  in  danger,"  said  Lady 


FREE   TO    SERVE  429 

Betty.  "  The  governor  will  have  to  send  soldiers  to  the 
rescue.  The  majesty  of  the  law  needs  upholding.  Such 
pestiferous  fellows  should  feel  the  lash." 

"Ah,  he  has  reached  his  own  threshold,"  cried  Sir 
Julian,  as  the  sheriff  gained  the  shelter  of  his  doorway, 
and  paused  for  a  moment  to  hurl  the  nearest  adversary 
to  the  ground. 

A  volley  of  oaths  told  that  he  had  succeeded  in  put- 
ting a  strong  door  between  himself  and  the  rioters. 
The  sounds  came  somewhat  softened  by  distance, 
though  the  sheriff's  house  was  in  full  sight.  Shouts  of 
raillery,  and  language  horrible  enough  to  arouse  the 
anger  of  all  who  heard  it,  followed.  The  sailors  set 
themselves  to  wreak  their  vengeance  on  this  last  de- 
feated foe,  and  recklessly  attempted  to  batter  and  break 
their  way  into  the  house.  Several  citizens  sallied  out 
to  attempt  a  rescue,  only  to  be  driven  back  ignomini- 
ously.  The  sailors  were  now  thoroughly  excited.  So 
also  were  the  townspeople,  Fulke  among  the  number. 

"  I  am  going  to  the  fort,"  he  announced.  "  This  is 
too  much  to  stand." 

"They'll  have  the  door  down,  I'll  wager,  unless  the 
soldiers  are  soon  on  the  scene,"  said  Lady  Betty,  some 
time  later. 

"  Here  come  men  wearing  the  queen's  uniform," 
responded  Sir  Julian.  "  Now,  perchance,  these  rascals 
will  get  their  deserts." 

"  Nay,  there  are  but  two  of  them.  Does  the  com- 
mander of  the  fort  think  that  each  man  is  four-handed, 
that  he  sends  so  few?"  said  Lady  Betty  wrathfully. 
"  It  is  no  child's  play  to  quell  such  a  riot,  and  teach  the 
scoundrels  their  place." 

"  They  wear  the  dress  of  army  officers,"  said  Sir 
Julian.  "  The  miscreants  will  not  dare  to  do  other  than 
obey  them." 

"  That  sounds  like  obedience,  truly!  "  retorted  Lady 


430  FREE   TO    SERVE 

Betty  sarcastically,  as  a  confused  volume  of  sound 
reached  the  listeners. 

At  sight  of  the  officers  some  of  the  sailors  shouted, 
some  swore,  and  there  were  those  who  screamed  in 
their  fury.  They  turned  their  attention  from  the  sher- 
iff's house,  and  hurled  themselves  on  these  new  foes. 
If  they  thought  to  put  them  to  flight  as  quickly  as  they 
had  dispersed  their  former  assailants,  they  found  them- 
selves mistaken.  The  officers  drew  their  swords,  and 
used  them  too.  The  sailors  closed  about  them.  For 
a  few  minutes  the  confusion  was  too  great  for  any  to  tell 
on  which  side  victory  was  declaring  itself  Then  the 
sympathizers  of  the  sheriff  bore  quickly  away  a  motion- 
less figure.  The  cry  was  raised,  "  They  have  killed  a 
queen's  officer  !  "  There  was  but  one  soldier  fighting 
now. 

The  riot  was  growing  serious,  and  the  citizens  anx- 
ious. Suddenly,  in  a  momentary  lull  in  the  storm, 
there  was  heard  the  sound  of  many  feet,  advancing 
rapidly,  and  a  body  of  soldiers  appeared,  coming  at  a 
run  towards  the  scene  of  strife.  Then  there  rose  a 
shout  of  triumph  from  the  weaker  side,  and  Lady  Betty, 
in  her  excitement,  brought  her  hand  down  heavily  on  a 
table  near  by. 

"  Now  they  will  get  their  deserts  !  Ah,  they  are 
already  having  a  taste  of  it.  The  fine  fellows  are  laying 
to  with  a  will.  One  of  the  rascals  has  fallen.  They  are 
trampling  him  under  foot,  and  full  well  he  deserves  it. 
There  will  soon  be  others  to  keep  him  company." 

The  rioters  surged  and  wavered,  now  advancing,  now 
retreating.  It  was  a  hand  to  hand  fight,  but  it  was  soon 
apparent  that  the  sailors  were  having  the  worst  of  it. 
They  fought  desperately,  but  bit  by  bit  they  were 
driven  back.  The  sheriff's  house  was  clear  of  them ; 
they  had  retreated  farther  down  the  street.  But  before 
the  door  the  ground  was  spattered  with  blood,  and  a 


FREE    TO    SERVE  431 

blood-stained  human  form,  that  now  and  again  writhed 
in  pain,  was  left  as  a  witness  to  the  defeat  of  the  sailors. 

Aveline  stood  behind  Lady  Betty  and  Sir  Julian,  and 
every  eye  was  strained  to  follow  the  combat.  Objects 
nearer  home  were  overlooked  in  the  excitement  of  the 
fight.  That  was  why  none  of  the  three  noticed  the 
girl  who  went  swiftly  past  the  window,  and  who  never 
stopped  until  she  stood  over  the  fallen  sailor,  whose 
moans  sounded  plainer  to  her  than  all  the  shouts  of  the 
combatants.  The  poor  wretch  was  sorely  wounded,  and 
his  life  blood  wetted  the  stones. 

"  My  friend,  can  I  do  aught  to  help  you?" 

Probity  knelt  upon  the  blood-stained  stones,  and 
gently  lifted  the  sailor's  head.  She  poured  water  from 
a  bottle  she  had  brought,  and  let  a  few  drops  trickle 
from  her  hand  on  to  the  tightly  closed  lips.  She  pressed 
her  cool,  wet  hand  on  the  dying  man's  forehead.  He 
looked  up  at  her,  and  moaned  again. 

"  My  friend,"  she  said,  "  I  would  gladly  help  you,  but 
I  fear  there  is  little  that  can  be  done.  There  is  only 
One  who  can  aid  you  now,  and  to  Him,  I  am  afraid, 
you  have  been  little  accustomed  to  turning.  Yet  would 
I  urge  you  now  to  seek  Him.  You  have  not  long  to 
live  in  this  world  —  it  may  possibly  not  be  too  late  to 
prepare  for  the  next." 

The  sailor  fixed  his  eyes  on  her,  and  roused  himself 
to  give  utterance  to  an  oath.  The  girl  looked  upon 
him  sorrowfully. 

"  Surely  the  cords  of  sin  are  strong,  and  they  cut  deep 
into  the  heart.     It  can  in  no  wise  free  itself,"  she  said. 

But  she  took  out  her  handkerchief,  and  laid  it,  wet 
and  cool,  on  his  forehead.  Just  then  the  fortunes  of 
war  for  the  moment  turned.  The  soldiers  gave  way, 
and  the  tide  of  battle  moved  once  more  up  the  street. 
Probity  saw  the  danger.  Bending  thus  over  the  wounded 
sailor,  she  would,  almost  of  a  certainty,  be  trampled 


432  FREE    TO    SERVE 

upon.  But  if  she  left  him,  the  small  remnant  of  life 
would  be  trodden  out.  The  few  minutes  given  to  him 
to  prepare  for  another  world  would  be  snatched  away. 
She  stood  up  and  exerted  all  her  strength  to  draw  him 
out  of  the  line  of  conflict.  But  he  was  a  heavy  man, 
and  she  made  small  headway.  On  came  the  combat- 
ants, the  soldiers  yielding  ground  slowly.  Shouts,  and 
oaths,  and  the  trampling  of  feet,  and  the  clashing  of 
steel,  were  in  her  ears.  Then  she  was  hurled  to  the 
ground,  but  as  she  fell  she  yet  endeavoured. to  shield  the 
poor  wretch  she  had  tried  to  succour.  She  felt  the 
touch  of  a  soldier's  heavy  heel,  and  then  lay  stunned.  It 
was  a  man's  voice  that  roused  her.  It  sounded  clear 
above  the  tumult. 

"  Probity  !     Dear  Probity  !  " 

With  strong  arm  Geysbert  thrust  the  nearest  strug- 
glers  aside. 

"  Stand  back  !  "  he  cried.  "  You  are  trampling  on  a 
woman." 

The  course  of  the  pushing,  fighting  crowd  was 
diverted,  and  Geysbert  bent  over  the  girl. 

"  Probity  !  "  he  said.     "  Have  I  lost  you  too  ?  " 

He  lifted  her  from  the  ground.  Her  face  was  bruised 
by  the  heel  of  the  soldier.  He  did  not  stop  to  see 
whether  or  not  the  sailor  still  lived.  He  carried  Probity 
swiftly  towards  the  house  where  Aveline  and  Sir  Julian 
and  Lady  Betty  were  now  waiting,  an  excited  group, 
without  the  door. 

"  Is  she  much  hurt?  "  asked  Aveline. 

The  look  he  gave  her  confirmed  a  suspicion  that  had 
long  been  growing  in  her  mind. 

"  They  trampled  on  her,"  he  said,  and  his  voice 
trembled. 

He  carried  her  up  to  the  room  where  she  had  stood 
to  watch  the  fray.  Her  eyelids  had  never  stirred  since 
that  first  moment  when  his  voice  roused  her.     But  when 


FREE   TO    SERVE  433 

he  bent  over  the  white  face,  disfigured  now  with  the  blue 
mark  made  by  the  soldier's  heel,  he  suddenly  stooped 
and  kissed  her.  Then  her  eyes  opened,  and  a  faint 
wave  of  colour  swept  over  her  face.  Nobody  was  there 
except  Aveline,  and  a  moment  later  Aveline  was  not 
there  either. 

*'  Probity,  the  world  grew  very  dark  when  I  thought 
you  were  going  from  me,"  he  said. 

She  tried  to  smile,  but  her  lips  quivered. 

It  must  have  been  fully  ten  minutes  before  Aveline 
returned,  with  much  apparently  unnecessary  bustle, 
and  with  such  restoratives  as  seemed  most  useful. 
That  ten  minutes  had  been  spent  in  vigorous  efforts  to 
keep  Lady  Betty  out  of  the  room.  Now  the  good  lady 
followed  close  at  her  heels. 

"Hoity-toity!"  she  said.  "Is  this  how  you  attend 
to  the  wounds  of  an  injured  girl?" 

Geysbert  stood  leaning  over  Probity,  one  hand  clasp- 
ing the  blood-stained  fingers  that  had  ministered  to  the 
sailor,  and  the  other  smoothing  the  hair  from  her  fore- 
head.    He  laughed  as  he  turned  to  Lady  Betty. 

"  There  is  more  than  one  way  of  accomplishing  the 
same  end,"  he  said. 

It  was  later  in  the  same  day.  The  dying  sailor  had 
been  removed,  and  his  companions  driven  off.  Even 
the  blood  had  been  washed  from  the  street.  But  the 
excitement  had  not  subsided.  All  New  York  was 
roused.  An  officer  had  been  killed,  and  the  law  defied. 
It  was  the  subject  of  talk  in  every  house.  More  espe- 
cially was  it  the  subject  of  talk  in  the  house  where 
Aveline  sat  dispensing  tea  from  a  tiny  teapot,  a  little 
globular  vessel  that  held  scarcely  more  than  a  pint. 
It  cannot  be  denied  that  Aveline  was  a  trifle  proud  of 
her  position  to-day,  or  that  she  displayed  the  gold  tea- 
service —  Helmer's  gift  —  with  something  like  triumph. 
Lady  Betty's  eyes  were  critical,  but  even  Lady  Betty 


434  FREE   TO    SERVE 

could  not  find  aught  to  say  against  Helmer,  or  Helmer's 
care  of  herself.  He  was  talking  to  Sir  Julian  now, 
showing  himself  very  attentive  to  the  older  man,  but 
Sir  Julian  did  not  fail  to  notice  that  any  movement  on 
Aveline's  part  drew  his  eyes  towards  her  with  a  watch- 
ful care.  The  mind  of  Aveline's  guardian  was  already 
at  peace  with  respect  to  his  ward. 

Lady  Betty  complacently  sipped  her  tea  from  the 
miniature  cup  that  held  no  more  than  a  gill,  and  looked 
from  her  niece  to  the  spot  where  Probity,  very  white 
and  shaken,  was  being  carefully  waited  upon  by  Geys- 
bert.  Then  she  allowed  her  gaze  to  travel  upward 
towards  Fulke,  who,  tall  and  manly,  was  devoting  him- 
self to  her, 

"  You  might  have  done  worse  than  cross  the  water," 
she  said. 


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